


Mordred Snow

by BusyWriter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Father Ramsay Bolton, Good little Mordred, Mordred hates Ramsay's guts, Mordred is a smart and cunning child, Mordred reborn into Westeros, Mordred retains his magic and uses it to his advantage, Ramsay Bolton is a deadbeat father, Scheming Roose Bolton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 120,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22344937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BusyWriter/pseuds/BusyWriter
Summary: After dying at the hands of Arthur, Mordred meets Kara’s spirit in the afterlife and finally sees her true nature. Horrified, Mordred realizes that Kara, was truly did want Camelot and Arthur destroyed. Mordred becomes regretful and wallows in his shame. The last thing the regretful spirit expects is to be reincarnated into another world.Ramsay Snow just couldn’t believe that he found the only girl who’s ever escaped his hunt alive. However, the girl is not alone. The girl holds a babe bearing Ramsay’s eyes and she says that he is the father. As Ramsay looks at the little human with the tiny scowling face and ghost grey eyes bundled into swaddling cloths, he knows one thing for certain. Somehow, his little bastard son was going to make his life a living hell.Mordred, absolutely hates his new father’s guts. Despite Mordred being raised in the Dreadfort, Ramsay is more or less a deadbeat father. However, as Mordred grows, he realizes that he has retained his magical powers. What shall happen to the magical user as he tries to survive the unpredictable world of Westeros? And what is his purpose for being reborn into this dangerous world? How will Mordred's presence change the World of Westeros?
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton & Sansa Stark, Ramsay Bolton/Myranda, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy/Reek, Roose Bolton/"Fat" Walda Frey
Comments: 25
Kudos: 82





	1. Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> I will admit that I never really got the chance to watch game of Thrones or read any of the books, or even the Merlin TV show. However, I have watched parts of both shows on youtube and followed up on both through fandom sites. I absolutely love both storylines and I feel like I missed out on watching them both while they aired. I absolutely loved the direwolves on game of Thrones and I was so sad when Lady, Greywind, Shaggydog and Summer died. I also love the Merlin Storyline. I absolutely love the character of Mordred and I was so sad when he turned evil. As soon as I get my hands on some Song of ice and Fire books, I will for sure read them. 
> 
> I came up with the idea for this story by pure accident. I was watching some Game of Throne clips on youtube about Ramsay Bolton. Ramsay is such a great game of Thrones villian. After awhile of watching some more Game of thrones and Merlin clips, I just couldn't help but notice the physical similarities between child Mordred and Ramsay. Then, I thought 'oh man if Ramsay ever had a son, he would probably look a lot like young Mordred'. And, I had always been upset about Mordred's descent into darkness. I always thought it would be great of Mordred could be reborn and then he would be given a chance to redeem himself. Then, it was like a lightbulb went off in my head. And thus, this story was born. 
> 
> Spoiler: Mordred, being reborn with his magical abilities shall be a very important plot for the story. The plot shall also focus very specifically on Roose Bolton. Can any of you just imagine what Roose would think and do if Ramsay gave him a grandson with magical powers? I actually have this very special image in my head of this. Kudos to anyone who can figure out what it is. Hints: I came up with this image after listening to my favorite songs. Different covers on 'You win or you die' from game of Thrones, plus 'Mordred's lullaby' and 'My lullaby' from Lion King II. Listen to these songs and you should all come up with the same idea.

Mordred, opens his eyes to see a gray sky above him. Mordred, sits up to see an endless field of wheat and poppy flowers lies before him. Mordred, looks at the ground around him. The ground around him is meadow like with grass and flowers. Mordred, gets to his feet. He sniffs the air and is immediately confused. He can’t smell _anything_. Nothing at all. 

Mordred, blinks and looks at the land around him. The wheat doesn’t appear to be blowing in the breeze, so there must not be a breeze. Mordred, then realizes something. He can’t physically feel any sensations of hot or cold. He can’t feel any kind of wind hitting his skin. 

_What is going on?_ Mordred thinks as he looks at his surroundings. _Why can’t I feel anything?_

Mordred, blinks as he thinks back to the last thing he remembers. Mordred, remembers fighting Arthur Pendragon and stabbing his former friend with a sword. Wait...Arthur stabbed _him_ as well. Mordred, rubs his heart as he remembers the wound. It finally occurs to the druid. Arthur killed him. He is dead. 

_I am dead…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _This is the afterlife._

Mordred, blinks. Well, he is dead, so now what. Then, Mordred, thinks of his lost love. Kara. 

_Kara…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I can finally be reunited with her. But, where can I find her._

Mordred, turns to his left to sees figures walking through the wheat and flowers. The figures are other spirits. The spirits all seem to be walking aimlessly. Each one of the spirits has a blank look on his or her face. The spirit of a man approaches Mordred. 

“Hello.” Mordred says to the spirit of the man. “Can you tell me where I can find a girl named Kara? She is about my age with long dark hair.” 

The spirit man glances at Mordred, but doesn’t say anything. The spirit man keeps on walking past Mordred. The other spirits don’t pay attention to Mordred. Then, Mordred looks to his left to see a cloud of darkness in the horizon. For some reason, Mordred, feels drawn to the darkness. Without thinking about it anymore, Mordred, starts walking slowly towards the cloud of darkness. 

After five minutes of walking Mordred, arrives at a dark field full of wilted grass and dead flowers. The sky above the dark field is grayish, almost black. Spirits who are walking around in the field cast dark auras as they walk. The spirits let out screams of rage. The eyes of all the spirits glow red. Mordred, shivers at the sight of the dark and angry spirits. This place just gives him the creeps. However, through the darkness, Mordred sees a familiar figure. Mordred, cautiously approaches the figure. Mordred, lets out a gasp as he realizes who the figure is. It is his lost love. Kara. 

A smile spreads across Mordred’s face. _Kara…,_ Mordred thinks to himself happily. However, Mordred’s initial joy turns to dread when he realizes something. There is a very dark aura surrounding Kara. Kara’s aura is darker than the auras belonging to the other spirits. 

_Kara…,_ Mordred thinks as he looks on in horror at the aura. This is not right. Kara, is not evil. Right? 

Then, Kara, lets out an enraged scream. The aura surrounding Kara grows even darker. Kara’s eyes glow bright red. Mordred, steps back when images appear in the aura. He shivers when he sees the images. The images are absolutely horrifying. In the aura, Mordred, can see Camelot burning to the ground. Mordred, can even hear the anguished screams of Camelot’s people as they are consumed by the flames. Fire and blood. That is all Mordred can see. Kara, lets out more enraged screams. 

_“Death to Camelot!”_ Kara screams. _“Death to all of Camelot!”_

Mordred, blinks when another image appears in the dark aura. This image is slightly different. The image is of Arthur and the rest of the knights of the round table, as well as Merlin, are standing around Kara. Arthur, is offering Kara mercy if she stands down and leaves Camelot peacefully. However, Kara, simply refuses. Mordred’s eyes widen. Arthur offered Kara mercy a second time and she refused?

 _“Death to all Pendragons!”_ Kara screams. _“Death to all of Camelot!”_

Mordred, cannot speak. He stumbles back from horror and anguish. He takes off running back the way he came. 

* * *

Mordred, stops running as he reaches a gray pond. Other spirits sit on the edge of the pond and stare into the water with blank stares. Mordred, collapses and looks into the water. If Mordred was able to shed tears he would be crying rivers right now. Kara really was evil and wanted to destroy Camelot. Arthur, tried to reason with her but she couldn’t be reasoned with. The young king of Camelot offered Kara mercy and clemency _twice_. However, Kara was full of darkness and hatred she refused both. Mordred, himself had been too blind to see Kara’s darkness. As a result he betrayed Arthur and his fellow knights when Arthur had Kara put to death. 

Mordred, blinks as he stares at the water. Mordred had pledged himself to Arthur and as a result he became a knight of Camelot. He had gained respect and friendship from his fellow knights. However, when Kara was executed, Mordred threw all of that away in order to avenge her. But...after seeing what he just saw, Mordred, now realizes that his former love was indeed evil. Was it really worth it then for Mordred to throw away all of his friendships for Kara? 

Mordred, blinks again and looks at the sky. When him and Kara were younger, Kara, was so kind and full of life. But, the Kara, that Mordred saw a little while ago is a shadow of what Kara used to be. What changed? Mordred, suddenly remembers something that a wise old druid told him when he was a child. Mordred, had once asked the old druid if beings can be evil from birth. Back then, the answer that the old druid gave Mordred always confused him. However, Mordred finally understands the old druids words. Mordred, closes his eyes. 

_A young Mordred, runs around the campsite belonging to his druid tribe. Other druid children run around and giggle as well. Adults work on various chores. Mordred, passes an old druid man who is making an herbal draught for a sick tribe member. The old druid is sitting in front of a tent. The old druid’s eyes are blue-grey and the old druid has whitish gray hair. Mordred, stops running and stands in front of the old druid. The old druid looks up._

_“Master Amantius, I have a question.” Young Mordred says._

_“Yes, what is it.” The old druid, Master Amantius says. “Please be quick. I am busy.”_

_Young Mordred, looks Master Amantius in the eyes. “I was just wondering about good and evil.” Young Mordred says. “You and the other masters and elders always tell the other children and I about what makes beings good and evil. Are all living things born good, or can some be born evil?”_

_Master Amantius’s eyes widen slightly. “I have never been asked that question before.” Master Amantius says._

_However, the old druid simply takes a deep breath. “Humans and magical creatures are not born evil.” master Amantius says. “However, they can become evil through living life. Life can change people. Sometimes, change can be for the better. However, change can also be for the worse. Even magical creatures can develop bitterness and resentment during their years alive. Tragedy...hatred...persecution...and loss can darken the heart of any living being. Spells that darken a person’s heart can be undone. However, when a person’s heart becomes dark naturally, usually nothing can be done to undo the damage. Life can change a person...forever. Nothing can pull them back out of the darkness.”_

Mordred, closes his eyes. Back then, he didn’t understand master Amantius’s words. However, with all that has happened, Mordred finally understands what the old druid was trying to tell him. Men and beasts are not born evil, but certain changes can influence them to become evil. Kara, was not born evil, but the tragedies she experienced during her life filled her heart and mind with darkness. Once the darkness got ahold of her heart, there was nothing anyone could do to reverse the damage. Mordred, looks down at the water. He had tried to convince Kara, that Arthur was a better king than his father. However, Kara’s hatred consumed her which made her unwilling to give Arthur a chance. She even tried to kill him, and even then Mordred was blind to her darkness. 

Mordred, looks at his hands. In Mordred’s desire for vengeance, he betrayed Arthur, the king that he pledged himself too. And given the wound that Mordred inflicted upon Arthur, the king probably won’t survive. Mordred, blinks a few times. He killed Arthur. He killed his _king_. The king that he had sworn to protect and serve. When King Arthur had knighted Mordred, the latter had promised to protect Camelot and King Arthur with his life. Mordred, closes his eyes. He did the opposite. He tried to help Morgana destroy Camelot and Arthur. 

_If Morgana is still alive, then Camelot is doomed._ Mordred thinks to himself. _I’ve doomed Camelot._

Mordred, looks at the water. Then, right before Mordred’s eyes, the water turns white and forms a shimmering image. The image is of Morgana. Mordred gasps. Morgana...is dead. Merlin, no Emrys, stands above Morgana’s body, holding a sword. The magic user must have killed her. Just as it was said that would happen. Mordred, closes his eyes as he watches Merlin, helps Arthur to his feet. Arthur, walks slowly and his breathing is haggard. Mordred, puts his head in his hands. The king is dying and it is all Mordred’s fault. Mordred, then thinks back to when he was a child. The day that Merlin almost let him get captured by Camelot’s soldiers. Merlin must have known Mordred would be responsible for Arthur’s death one way or another. Merlin, had tried to prevent it. 

_Merlin..no Emry’s...must have known what I would grow up to become,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _That is why he almost let the soldiers kill me that day. He knew one day I would kill Arthur. That is why he was always so cold to me._

Mordred, looks up at the gray sky. He killed his king. The king he swore to serve and protect. Mordred, betrayed his fellow knights, whom had shown him nothing but respect and friendship. Mordred, also betrayed all of Camelot, the kingdom that he had sworn to protect. He also betrayed Merlin, no Emrys to Morgana. Mordred, closes his eyes. He wishes that he could take everything back now. But...it is too late for that. He is dead. The dead can’t go back in time and change the past. 

Mordred, opens his eyes. Suddenly, Mordred hears a strange noise. A flash of bright light to his right catches Mordred’s attention. Mordred, looks to see a glowing door to his right. 

_Wha—what...is that door for,_ Mordred wonders to himself. For some reason, Mordred, feels drawn to that door. It is almost like it is calling out to him. Then, Mordred hears a faint whisper. 

_...Go on…,_ The faint whisper says. _Go on._

Mordred, gets up and slowly walks to the door. Once he reaches the door, Mordred, turns the handle and opens the door. On the other side of the door, Mordred, can see a long hallway made of stone. Torches light the way down the hallway. The hallway ends at an opening which glows with bright light. Then, Mordred suddenly hears another faint whisper. 

_Follow the light…,_ The faint whisper says. 

Without thinking about it, Mordred, starts walking down the hallway. Mordred, hears the door close behind him. Mordred, keeps on walking until he reaches the other side. The light is almost blinding, but Mordred steps into the light anyway. He turns to look behind him. The hallway is gone. Then, Morded, sees a black hole open up in front of him. Mordred, stops walking but he doesn’t stop moving. Mordred, looks down to see that his feet are not moving. He is literally floating towards the black hole. Mordred, floats right into the black hole. 

* * *

A woman with brown hair and brown eyes, stands at the edge of a small bed. The woman is not very old but she is not young either. The wrinkles and bits if gray hair show the woman’s age. The woman wears a simple dress that is tan in color. The woman’s long hair has been pulled back and long piece of brown cloth keeps the woman’s hair tied into a long ponytail. 

On the bed lies a teenage girl, barely a woman. The girl lays propped up on the bed. The girl has black hair and blue-grey eyes. The girl’s skirts are pulled up and tiny beads of sweat trickle down her face. A small bump rests on the girl’s abdomen. The woman looks at the girl. 

“You can do it Lena,” The woman says to the girl. “Just one more push.” 

The girl, Lena, lets out a pained gasp. “I can’t.” Lena says weakly. 

“Yes, you can. Just one more push. I can see the head.” The woman says. 

Lena, lets out a pained sigh. She grunts as she pushes. She lets out a scream. A few moments later, a small baby cry rings out in the air. Lena, looks at the woman, who is holding a squirming baby covered in blood and amniotic fluid. 

The woman looks at Lena with a small smile. “You have a healthy boy my dear,” The woman says. 

Lena, narrows her eyes. “A boy?” Lena asks. Lena, then turns her head away. “A boy.” Lena says again, this time with a bitter voice.

“Yes, a little boy with a head of dark hair my dear.” The middle aged woman says. The middle aged woman then takes a knife and cuts the umbilical cord. “Now, I have to deliver the afterbirth.” 

The woman carries the baby over to a table and places the baby on top of an old rag. The table has been placed close to a hearth with a roaring fire. The woman walks back over to Lena’s bed. 

Mordred, lets out a gasp as he lays upon the old rag. _What is going on here…,_ Mordred thinks. After floating into the black hole Mordred, was completely surrounded by darkness. Mordred couldn’t move. It was like he had been confined to a tiny space. But while Mordred had been confined, he felt an odd sensation. Mordred, felt warmth like he had never felt before. He felt safe. Outside his small space, Mordred, could hear muffled sounds. Then, Mordred felt himself moving. The next thing Mordred knew, he was cold and warm hands were wrapped around his body. Mordred, had tried to speak but all that came out was a baby cry. As Mordred, lies upon the cloth he thinks back to his time with his fellow druids. Many druids talked about how souls can be reborn into other bodies after death. Is this what has happened? Has Mordred been reborn? Has he really been given a chance to live another life? 

“Alright, now it is time to give your babe a bath.” A voice says. Mordred, recognizes the voice as the first voice he heard when he entered the world. 

The woman picks up a pitcher of warm water and pours the water into a wooden wash tub. The woman, then picks up Mordred off of the table. Mordred, squirms a little but doesn’t make a sound. “He sure is a quiet little fellow.” The woman says. 

Mordred, then feels water being splashed on his body. Mordred, lets out a few shrieks and cries at the feeling of the water being splashed on his skin. After a few minutes the ordeal is over. Mordred feels something soft being patted on his skin. A towel maybe. Then, Mordred can feel something soft and warm being wrapped around his body. A blanket? Then, Mordred feels himself being carried. 

The middle aged woman, holds Mordred as she walks over to the bed. Lena, turns and looks at the middle aged woman. “Here you are Lena, your son. You can hold him now.” The middle aged woman says.

Mordred, thinks back to the other voice he heard after entering the world. Lena, must be the owner of the second voice. Lena, must be his mother. _Mama…,_ Mordred thinks. 

Lena, turns her head and looks away from the woman. “No, you can take him away.” Lena says. 

Mordred, feels his heart break a little. His own mother doesn’t want to hold him. Why? 

The woman blinks and looks down at the baby in her arms. “Why?” The woman asks. “He is your son.” 

Lena, turns back towards the woman. “You know why Dalia.” Lena says with a bitter voice. “That bastard, Ramsay Snow of the Dreadfort. He raped me and then chased me through the forest with his horrid dogs. I barely escaped alive.” 

Mordred, feels his heart drop. His father is a rapist? 

“Now Lena…,” The woman, Dalia, says. “It is not the babe’s fault. The babe’s father might be evil, but that doesn’t mean the babe has to be like his father. Just look at him.” 

Dalia, lowers baby Mordred down a little so that Lena can see him better. Lena, looks at her newborn son. Just then, Mordred’s eyes slowly open. Lena, gasps with horror as she stares into two orbs of pale ghost grey eyes. The color looks like dirty ice. “He has the bastard’s eyes!” Lena cries out as she leans away. 

Mordred, feels his heart drop even more. He sees a blurry figure lean away from him. The figure must be Lena, his mother. He has the eyes of a rapist? Mordred, lets out a small whimper 

_I’m truly sorry that you hate my eyes mother…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I wish that I could change the fact that I have the eyes of your rapist._

Lena, blinks as she looks at the two ghost grey orbs. She then lets out a sigh. “He has the bastard’s eyes…,” Lena says again. “But...there is something in his eyes that Ramsay didn’t have. Innocence.” 

Mordred, blinks. His mother probably wouldn’t say that if she knew about her son’s past life. 

Dalia, looks at Lena. “All babes start out that way.” Dalia says. “Just hold him. You may find that you actually enjoy it.” 

Mordred, feels himself being passed into another set of hands. Mordred, feels his head being placed into the crook of someone’s arm. The arms feel very tense. However, the arms relax after a few minutes. Mordred, blinks again. Maybe his mother will warm up to him after all. Suddenly, Mordred, feels his stomach gurgle a little. Mordred, lets out a whimper and purses his lips into a scowl. 

Lena, narrows her eyes at the scowl that her son is making. “Why is he scowling?” Lena asks.

“You haven’t nursed him yet.” Dalia says. “The poor babe must be getting hungry. Don’t worry, I shall tell you what to do. First, you must uncover one of your breasts.” 

Lena, uses one hand to untie the top of her dress, revealing her right breast. Dalia, nods with approval. “Good…,” Kirena says. “Now, hold his mouth up to your breast.” 

Lena, shifts her son so that his mouth is close to her breast. Soon, Mordred, smells a sweet scent. It smells like...warmed milk. 

“Hold his head so that his mouth can latch onto your breast.” Dalia says. “Once he is able to latch, he can suckle.” 

Lena, puts a hand under her son’s head and holds him close to her breast. Mordred, blinks as the scent of warm sweet milk gets closer. Almost instinctively, Mordred, opens his mouth and clamps his gums onto the warm skin of Lena’s right breast, and begins to suck. Mordred, makes a few sweet suckling noises as he suckles. Dalia, lets out a laugh. 

“Oh look at that, the boy is a natural at nursing.” Dalia says. After a few minutes, Dalia, stands straight. “What shall you name the boy?” Dalia suddenly asks. 

Mordred, feels the arms of his mother tense up again. Suddenly, Mordred, hears a whispering noise. Lena, locks eyes with her son as the latter nurses. The whispering noise is heard again. It now sounds more like a voice. This time Mordred, can make out a word. 

_...Mordred…_ , The whispering voice says. 

Lena, scowls. “I know just the name.” Lena says suddenly with some bitterness. “Mordred!” 

Mordred, blinks a few times. His mother must have heard the whispering voice as well. 

Dalia, raises a brow. Dalia, may be one of the illiterate smallfolk of Westeros, but she is a good listener. The woman knows what Mordred means. “Mordred?” Dalia asks with uneasiness. “You do know that Mordred means ‘pain’ right?” 

Lena, closes her eyes. “I have endured so much pain because of the child’s bastard father.” Lena says. “This babe represents my pain. He is the physical representation of my suffering at the hands of Ramsay Snow. The boy must always know and remember what I have had to endure. If the child carries this name, then he shall never forget.” 

Mordred, feels his mother shift him a little. “My son is also a bastard, Dalia.” Lena says. “He must understand that his life will be full of pain and unfairness.” 

Dalia, raises a brow. “You are also a baseborn bastard Lena.” Dalia says. “Your full name is Lena Snow.”

Lena, closes her eyes. “That is true.” Lena says. “My father is from house Cerwyn. I have gone through pain and suffering because of this. Mordred also carries the blood of the feared House of Bolton in his veins. My son must understand that his life shall be cruel and unfair due to his bastard status and his Bolton blood.” 

Dalia, takes a deep breath. She realizes that there is no swaying Lena from her decision. However, there is something that must be decided. Dalia, can’t imagine that Lena would want to go to the Dreadfort and face Ramsay again, but Ramsay must acknowledge Mordred as his son in order for Mordred, to receive the bastard surname Snow. Even if the mother herself is a baseborn bastard with a noble father, a child’s _father_ , noble or a bastard must acknowledge the child in order for the child to have a bastard surname.

“I hate to ask this, but are you going to take Mordred to the Dreadfort for Ramsay to acknowledge?” Dalia asks. “Mordred, will only be able to use the bastard surname Snow if Ramsay acknowledges him.” 

Lena, frowns. “Of course not!” Lena says. “I don’t care if Mordred receives the name Snow or not. If Ramsay ever got his hands on my son, he would turn the boy into a little copy of himself. I just know he would. Ramsay would make certain to destroy any innocence within this child. ” 

Lena, takes a deep breath. “If I can help it, Ramsay will never know about this child.” Lena says. 

Lena, then glances down at Mordred. Lena, narrows her eyes. “Mordred, shall grow up to hate the vile man, just as much as I do.” Lena says with a bitter voice. “However, if the day comes that Mordred meets his bastard father...and the boy truly loves me, then he shall avenge my pain at the hands of his father.”

Mordred, blinks a few times. If only his mother knew the truth about him. If only she knew that Mordred, is _really_ his name. 

* * *

Dalia, cleans up in the kitchen of the inn that she runs with her husband Tomas, their children, and Tomas’s family. The inn has been in Tomas’s family for many generations. Tomas, and each of his four brothers have small strips of land that sit right next to each other. Everyday, while Dalia, her daughters, her husband’s good-sisters, and nieces work in the inn, The men and boys work the fields behind the inn. 

Dalia, grabs a wooden bucket full of vegetable peelings. She walks out of the kitchen and opens up a wooden door leading outside. Outside, there sits a pile of vegetable peelings, some straw and tiny pieces of wood. Dalia and her family compost whatever waste they have. The resulting compost goes in their gardens. Dalia, dumps the waste onto the pile. She grabs a handmade shovel and turns the waste a little. Dalia, looks out towards the horizon. Faraway, to the east of the inn, sits the faint outline of the top of a stone castle. Dalia, shivers a little. The Dreadfort. Home to House Bolton, the scourge of the north. Home to Ramsay Snow. Dalia, quickly heads inside and closes the door behind her. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. Dalia, sets the bucket down by the door and rinses her hands with a little water. Dalia, grabs a wooden bowl and heads over to an iron kettle which sits above a low fire. Dalia, ladles some soup into the bowl and then places the bowl on a wooden tray. Dalia, places a small loaf of bread next to the bowl. Dalia, then picks up the tray and walks over to a door. The door is slightly ajar. Dalia, uses her arm to push the door open. Inside, there are beds which sit against the thick walls. A large hearth sits against the north wall. The heat from the fire warms the entire room. Above the room sits a large loft. The loft is where Dalia’s older sons and older nephews sleep. The beds on the ground are for Dalia and her husband, her good brothers and their wives, Dalia’s daughters and nieces, and her younger sons and nephews. Dalia, silently walks over to a bed. On the bed, Lena, sits propped up against some straw pillows. Lena, currently shares this bed with Dalia’s daughters and nieces. 

A reed basket sits next to Lena. Inside the basket lies baby Mordred. Mordred, sleeps soundly in his wrappings. Lena, looks up from her mending. Dalia, sets the tray down on a small homemade wooden table. Lena, nods and puts the garment she is mending down in her lap. Lena, reaches over and picks up the bowl of soup along with a spoon. 

“Thank you.” Lena says as she eats a few bites of the hearty looking soup. “Hmm, this soup is very good. What is in it?” 

“Mutton.” Dalia simply says. “I used the heart, tongue, and kidneys as well. I just chopped everything very finely so all of the meat would be nice and tender. I also added herbs, potatoes, peas, parsnips, and carrots.” 

Lena, eats another spoonful of soup. “This soup is very good, thank you Dalia.” Lena says as she swallows. 

Dalia, blinks as she watches Lena eat. Lena, then sets the bowl of down soup. Lena, then picks up the loaf of bread and takes a few bites of it. “Lena, I have a suggestion for you.” Dalia says. “You said that you did not want Ramsay Snow finding out about Mordred. I fear that if you stay here he shall.”

Lena, stops eating. She knows exactly what Dalia is talking about. “Are you saying that I should leave?” Lena asks. 

Dalia, nods her head. “Yes, I fear so.” Dalia says. “Before you know it Mordred will be waddling around. Once the boy starts walking he will be able to wander off. If someone sees his eyes and realizes that he has Bolton blood, word would then reach the Dreadfort _and_ Ramsay Snow. The bastard may realize that you are the boy’s mother and come after you.” 

Lena’s eyes widen when she thinks of that happening. Dalia, sighs. “If that day comes I won’t be able to protect you or your son.” Dalia says. “Therefore, you should take your son and leave. Preferably, you should go to lands under the lordship of a different Northern lord. That will make it more difficult for Ramsay Snow to find you.” 

Lena, blinks sadly. “I would hate to leave.” Lena says. “You have been so good to me.” 

“I will hate to see you go as well.” Dalia says. “I still remember the day you stumbled into the village square, bruised and bleeding. I could tell that you had been through alot. I decided to help you.” 

“Help me you did.” Lena says. “You tended my wounds and helped me to recover. You gave me a safe place to stay after I found out that I was pregnant. I can’t thank you enough.”

Dalia, smiles. “It is my pleasure.” Dalia says. “I enjoy helping others.” 

After a few minutes, Dalia, places a hand on Lena’s shoulder. “I was just thinking,” Dalia says. “Maybe you should go back to the lands of your father’s noble house. I am sure that you would be safe there.” 

Lena, frowns and closes her eyes. “My father is from house Cerwyn.” Lena says. “My mother was a woman from a brothel next to the Cerwyn’s Castle. My father acknowledged me but he never supported me. When I was five, my mother and I were kicked out of the brothel I was born in. My mother went to Castle Cerwyn and _begged_ my father for a little money, not much, just a little. My father refused and sent my mother and I away. My mother and I spent the next eight years of my life walking from brothel to brothel, inn to inn, trying to find food, shelter, and work. My father didn’t help me then, he won’t now.” 

“I didn’t mean you had to go ask for help from your father.” Dalia says. “Just settle down in Cerwyn lands. You will be away from the Dreadfort.” 

Lena, frowns and turns her head. “I am not going back to Cerwyn lands.” Lena says. “I promised myself I would never go back there.” 

Dalia, sighs. “Well, then I think the best place for you and your son is White Harbor.” Dalia says. “White Harbor is a thriving place with lots of work. And...it is far away from the Dreadfort. I will warn you though, it shall be a very long journey from here.” 

Lena, raises a brow. “White Harbor?” Lena asks. “I’ve always wanted to see White Harbor. I have also heard that it is a nice place. I don’t care that it will be a long walk. I am willing to walk that far for safety.” 

Dalia, looks down at baby Mordred in his basket. “Your son must get stronger before you can travel.” Dalia says. “I would say at least a week before you can travel with the little ladd.” 

As Dalia and Lena talk, Mordred listens closely from inside his basket. Even though Mordred is asleep, he can still hear the conversation between the two women. From an earlier conversation, Mordred heard many strange words and names. Westeros, was one of them. Mordred, only heard the word Westeros from an old story he remembered hearing as a child. Some old druids claimed that through their magic they could see into different worlds. In one story told by such an old druid, there was another world with magic and dragons. The dragons were used by an ancient people, called dragonlords, to build a grand civilization. However, the grand civilization was built near many volcanoes. One day all of the volcanoes erupted at once, killing all of the dragons in the area and destroying the grand cities of the civilization. A family of dragonlords and some dragons survived on a far away island. Then, the surviving dragonlords conquered a continent called _Westeros_. 

_Have I really been reborn into another world?_ Mordred thinks to himself. _Well, I suppose that would explain the strange words and phrases._

Mordred, shifts a little as he thinks of something else. Maybe it is best for him to be reborn into a different world. No one in this world would know of his dark past. Mordred, can imagine that his name is now infamous and hated in Camelot. Suddenly, Mordred, feels his belly rumble. Mordred, opens his eyes and whimpers. He lets out a small cry. Lena, picks Mordred up and cradles the little bundle in her arms. 

“It has been a while since you fed the little ladd.” Dalia says. “He must be hungry again. Uncover your breast and see if he will latch.” 

Lena, uncovers her right breast. Mordred, instinctively latches and begins suckling. Dalia, laughs again. “Your boy is a natural, Lena.” 

Lena, blinks a few times. “But...he is so quiet.” Lena says. “Aren’t babies supposed to cry all the time?” 

Dalia, just smiles. “Some babies cry all the time and some don’t.” Dalia says. “You are very lucky that your little ladd is so quiet.” 

Dalia, then narrows her eyes and leans in closer. “I’ve heard many rumors regarding Ramsay Snow.” Dalia says. “There is probably one explanation for his vileness. People say that Ramsay himself was conceived through rape.” 

Lena’s eyes widen. “Do you think that is true?” Lena asks. 

Dalia, narrows her eyes. “As the story goes…,” Dalia begins. “Lord Bolton hung a miller because the miller had married without Lord Bolton’s consent. Then, Lord Bolton took the miller’s wife and raped her underneath the tree from where he hung her husband.” 

Lena, gasps with horror. “That...is horrible.” Lena says. 

Mordred, blinks a few times. He heard a word for that kind of behavior back in Camelot. _Deranged._

Lena, looks at her son. “But...my son was also conceived through rape.” Lena says with some worry. 

“I also heard a rumor that Ramsay was the kind of baby who cried alot.” Dalia says. “After Ramsay was born his mother took him to the Dreadfort for Lord Bolton to acknowledge. People say that Ramsay squalled and cried the entire time...and look at how he turned out. Your son being quiet may be a good thing.” 

Lena, blinks a few times. “And if I keep my son away from Ramsay, things should be ok.” Lena says with some relief. 

Dalia, smiles and nods. “All you can do is raise your son to be honorable and respectful.” Dalia says. “It is how I raised my sons. They have turned into good men and boys.” 

Lena, frowns when she thinks of something. “I wonder then how Ramsay’s mother raised him, given how he turned out.” Lena says. “What kind of woman was she?” 

Dalia, frowns as well. “That is a good question.” Dalia says. “And unfortunately I do not have any answers to that question. However, Ramsay has spent some of his life within the Dreadfort and just think of how his father is.” 

Dalia, looks back towards the door. She picks up the tray with the now empty bowl. “I am sorry but I have to return to work.” Dalia says. “I shall return before sundown with some more food.” 

Dalia, leaves the room. Lena and Mordred are now alone in the room. Lena, sighs and leans back. She glances down Mordred, who is still nursing. “I will be damned if I let you turn into another Ramsay Snow.” Lena says. “I can see innocence in you. I will not let your vile father take that away.” 

Mordred, blinks as he suckles. He thinks of what he just heard. His father’s family sounds like a bunch of vile lunatics. Mordred, also thinks of his past. Slowly, the reborn druid makes a promise to himself. 

_I will not go down the path of evil again…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I will grow up to be a better man that I was._ **  
**


	2. An emotional goodbye

Lena, sits on a bed. She is carding wool with simple hand carders. Two baskets sit on the floor next to her. One is filled with tufts of uncarded wool. The other basket holds rolls of carded wool. Lena, tosses a finished roll of wool into the basket with the finished wool. Lena, grabs a handful of uncarded wool and spreads the wool onto one of the carders. Lena, then begins using the other carder to straighten and blend the wool fibers. It has been five days since Mordred’s birth. Lena, is doing mostly household chores in order to be near Mordred so that she can care for him. Today, Lena, is helping Tomas’s good-sister, Althea, card wool. Tomas and the other men just sheared the flock of sheep that they raise about two weeks ago. Lena, Dalia and all of the other women at the inn spent two days getting all of the wool washed. Now, it is time for the wool to be carded. 

Nearby, Althea, sits on another bed, holding similar carding tools. Althea, has light brown eyes and long brown hair, which is kept tied back most of the time. Althea, is married to Tomas’s youngest brother, Kelan. Althea, is still fairly young so she lacks the wrinkles and gray hair that Dalia has. 

Close by, Althea’s two young twins, Talen and Zinnia, play with a wooden hoop. Talen, is a young boy with brown hair and dark brown eyes. He got his eye color from Kelan. Zinnia, on the other hand has Kelan’s dark brown hair and Althea’s light brown eyes. Talen and Zinnia, both laugh and giggle as they watch the hoop roll across the floor. Althea, quickly shushes her children. 

“Quiet you two.” Althea says with a hushed voice. She points to the little bundle lying on the bed next to Lena. “Lena’s son is sleeping.” 

On the bed next to Lena, Mordred lies bundled in swaddling blankets. He twitches lightly in his sleep. 

_Mordred, blinks as he looks at the sword in his hands. It is his old sword. He is also wearing his old knights uniform and armor. Mordred, looks around. He is back in Camelot, in the training fields._

_The knights of the round table stand off to the side. Arthur, is among them. Arthur, is clad in his own knights armor. Merlin, Queen Guinevere and the old physician Gaius, stand close by as well. Arthur, smiles and lifts his sword up._

_“Show me what you got...Sir Mordred.” Arthur says with a grin. “Show me your sword skills.”_

_Mordred, blinks and manages a smile. These are some of his best memories of his life in Camelot, before his betrayal. Training with his king and fellow knights. Those were good days. Mordred, would give anything to go back and be a knight of Camelot again. To be with his old friends. Mordred, knows he can’t take it back, but he still has his memories. Mordred, raises his own sword._

_“Of course my king.” Mordred says with the voice he used to address Arthur with._

_Mordred and Arthur, start sparing. However, Mordred, can hear voices. Mordred, looks around. He can’t pinpoint where the voices are coming from._

_“GIVE IT BACK!” A voice says loudly. “GIVE IT BACK!”_

Talen, holds the wooden hoop away from Zinnia, who reaches for it. Zinnia, pouts. “It’s my turn to roll it!” Zinnia says. 

Talen, frowns and shakes his head. “No, it’s my turn.” Talen says. 

Althea, frowns as the sight of her children arguing. “Shhh!” Althea says with a very stern voice. “The two of you will wake the baby.” 

Talen and Zinnia, don’t pay their mother any mind. The two children continue to argue. Zinnia, reaches for the hoop again, only for it to be yanked back again by Talen. “GIVE IT TO ME!” Zinnia cries in frustration. 

Mordred’s eyes shoot open, ending his dream. Mordred, purses his lips and lets out a whimper. Lena, gasps at the sight of her now awake baby. Althea frowns and looks sternly at her children. “Look at what the two of you did!” Althea says scoldingly. “You woke up the baby!” 

The two children, still pay no attention to their mother. Zinnia, starts chasing her twin around the room. “GIVE IT TO ME!” Zinnia cries. 

“NO!” Talen yells out as he runs. 

Mordred, whimpers and he moves within his wrappings. _Please, someone just make them stop._ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Talen, suddenly stops running and holds the hoop light up in the air. “If you want it, catch it then!” Talen says. In one swift movement Talen, throws the hoop across the room. 

Althea lets out a gasp. “TALEN!” Althea says with an angry voice. “I have told you not to throw that!” 

The hoop flies through the air and lands right on Mordred’s face. Mordred, lets out a surprised little shriek. Seconds later, Mordred, starts wailing at the top of his lungs. Lena, gasps and puts down her carding tools. She picks up her wailing son and starts trying to soothe him. Althea, lets out a horrified gasp. She turns to Talen, with scolding eyes. 

“Talen, look at what you did!” Althea says scoldingly. “The hoop hit poor little Mordred right on the head!” 

Talen, just stands there and blinks. “I forgot he was there.” Talen says with a small voice. 

Althea, narrows her eyes. “How could you forget he was there?” She asks, not believing her son’s statement. “I kept telling you and Zinnia not to wake him up. And look at what you did. Not only did you wake the poor little ladd up, you also hurt his head!” 

Althea, takes a deep breath and turns to look at Lena with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for my children’s behavior, Lena.” Althea says very apologetically. “Is your son alright?” 

Lena, gently feels Mordred’s head and looks closely at it. “I think so.” Lena says. 

Mordred, blinks as the pain in his head slowly begins subsiding. _That really hurt…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Althea, sighs with some relief. “Good.” She says. Althea, then frowns when she looks at the wooden hoop on the bed. Without another word, Althea, picks up the hoop and places it on a hook in the wall. Althea, turns back to Talen and Zinnia. “Since the two of you cannot play nicely together, you shall help in the kitchen.” Althea says. “Come.” 

Althea, quickly grabs her children’s hands and leads them out of the bedroom. Lena and Mordred, are left alone in the bedroom. Lena, slowly rocks Mordred, who starts to calm down. Lena, sighs. Lena, does like living at the inn, but sometimes life here can be chaotic and unpredictable. 

* * *

Lena, empties the bucket of food scraps into the compost pile. Every now and again, she will do some work such as emptying the compost bucket and washing laundry while Mordred is asleep, as a way to stretch her legs. She glances up at the horizon. She shivers as she stares at the outline of the stone castle in the distance. The Dreadfort. That castle was where Ramsay Snow took her. Lena, was raped in that castle. Just looking at it brings back awful memories. 

_Lena, lies on a bed. A young man with black hair and ghost-grey eyes, approaches the bed with a malicious grin on his face. The young man, slowly begins undressing himself. Lena, whimpers._

_“Please...if you let me go, I won’t tell the Starks.” Lena says with a desperate voice. “Please!”_

_The young man does not respond. He simply climbs onto the bed. Lena, tries to get up but the young man pins her down. Lena, struggles within the man’s grasp._

_“NO, PLEASE!” Lena cries out._

Lena, gulps as she turns around. Lena, holds back sobs as she runs back into the inn. Inside, Dalia, is mixing some pie dough in a wooden bowl. Dalia, looks at Lena. Dalia’s face contorts with worry when she sees that Lena is hyperventilating. However, after a few seconds of looking at Lena’s face, Dalia, sighs. She realizes what happened. 

“You looked at the Dreadfort didn’t you?” Dalia asks. “You remembered what Ramsay Snow did to you.” 

Lena, nods and crumples to the floor. She lets out a few sobs. “I can’t help it.” Lena says. “Everytime I go outside I know that the Dreadfort is there and I just can’t help but look at it.” 

Dalia, sighs. “I understand.” Dalia says. “Everytime I go out there, I can’t help but look out at the horizon either. Just looking at that Castle sends shivers down my spine.” 

After thinking over things for a few minutes, Lena, lets out a sigh. “If I leave, I won’t ever have to look at the Dreadfort again.” Lena says. She sets the cup down. “You’re right Dalia. I have to leave. Not just for my safety...for my sanity as well!” 

Dalia, sighs. She knew this conversation would come up sooner or later. The woman will be very sad to see Lena leave. However, Dalia, knows that leaving is what is best for Lena and her son. “Have you decided when you shall leave?” Dalia asks. 

Lena, takes a deep breath. “As soon as I regain my strength.” Lena says. “You said that it would take at least a week or so. It has been five days since the birth of my son. I shall leave in two days.” 

Dalia, closes her eyes. “I shall miss you.” Dalia says with a sad voice. 

Lena, takes a deep breath. “I shall miss you even more, Dalia.” Lena says. “However, it is for the best.” 

Dalia, blinks and walks up to Lena. “I am sure that you remember that the only road leading to the Kingsroad goes past the Dreadfort.” Dalia says. 

Lena, gasps and covers her mouth. Dalia, is right. The only road leading to and from the village, runs right past the Dreadfort! How could Lena herself have forgotten such an important detail? 

“I will have to look at that dreaded castle even as I walk in order to get away from it.” Lena says with a dry voice. She puts her head into her hands and sobs.

“Walk as quickly as you can and try not to turn your head towards it.” Dalia says. “That is all you can do.” 

Just then, a baby cry can be heard. Lena, stops sobbing and looks up. Dalia, puts a hand on Lena’s shoulder. “Your little ladd wants you.” Dalia says. “Go to him.” 

Lena, nods and slowly gets to her feet. She walks over to a door. Lena, opens it and walks into the bedroom. On the bed that she shares with Dalia’s daughters and nieces, Althea, is trying to sooth Mordred. Althea, looks up and sees Lena approaching. Althea, holds the baby out to Lena. Lena, takes her son into her arms and starts to hum and rock him. Mordred, slowly stops crying. However, Mordred, makes a face and starts sucking on his fist. Lena, now realizes what is wrong. Her son is hungry. Lena, quickly sits down on the bed and unties the top of her blouse, revealing her right breast. Lena, holds Mordred, so that he can reach her breast. Mordred, quickly latches and starts suckling loudly. Althea, lets out a loud laugh. 

“Your little ladd sure likes his milk!” Althea says.

Mordred, blinks as he suckles. _Thank you mama…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I was getting very hungry._

Lena, settles down against some propped pillows and leans against them. Lena, sighs as she watches Althea, card more wool. “I shall be leaving for White Harbor in two days.” Lena says. “Everytime I go outside, I just can’t help but look at the Dreadfort. Just looking at that castle brings back horrible memories.” 

Althea, looks at Lena with sad eyes. “I shall be sad to see you go.” Althea says. “You have been such a great help at the inn.” 

Lena, sighs. “I do like it here.” Lena says. “I just hope that I can find a similar place in White Harbor.” 

Lena, then blinks and looks at Mordred. Before she gave birth Lena, had been so uncertain about whether she could actually come to love the child. But now, after holding and caring for her son in the days since his birth, Lena couldn’t imagine life without him. His sweet little face is so perfect. Mordred’s pale eyes shine with innocence only a baby could have. His little lips are a perfect shade of pink and his sweet chubby little cheeks are rosy. His little nose is sweet like a tiny button. His little head of dark hair feels like feathery down from a baby duck. Lena, could just stroke that softness forever. 

Mordred, blinks as makes a few cooing sounds. Even if Lena doesn't know it, Mordred, loves her. The sad truth is that in his past life, Mordred, never actually knew his biological parents. The elder druids told Mordred that they had died, but didn't go into great detail of how they died. Mordred's master, Cerdan, had acted as a father figure to him. However, Mordred, never had a motherly figure to look up to during his life with the druids. Now that Mordred has been reborn, he can finally have something that he always wanted. A mother.

Mordred, makes a few more cooing noises. _I love you mama...,_ Mordred thinks. 

Althea, smiles at the sight of Mordred, snuggling into Lena's chest. "Your little ladd loves you...that much is obvious." Althea says.

Lena, blinks a few times as she thinks about her son’s innocence. “My son is so Innocent Althea.” Lena says. “I must do whatever I can to protect that innocence from his bastard of a father. Ramsay, will make sure to destroy any innocence within my son, and I won’t have that. The only way to keep Ramsay from finding out about my son is to leave.” 

Althea, momentarily stops carding and looks at Lena. “I don’t know if I should mention this to you.” Althea says. “You see, Lord Bolton had a ‘trueborn’ son before Ramsay Snow.” 

Lena, blinks with absolute surprise. “He did?” Lena asks. “What happened to him?” 

Althea, bites her lip and starts carding wool again. “His name was Domeric.” Althea says. “He died young. That is the reason Lord Bolton brought Ramsay to the Dreadfort. He didn’t have an heir.” 

Lena, blinks a few times. “How did Domeric die?” Lena asks. 

“He fell sick.” Althea says without looking at Lena. “By all accounts, Domeric, was actually a very sweet boy. He was nothing like Ramsay. Many say that he served as a squire for his mother’s sister who was married to another Lord, in another land. Then, Domeric apparently served as a page for another lord. People say that Domeric was well liked there. However, as Lord Bolton and his wife never had any other children, Domeric was lonely during his time at home. When Domeric learned of the existence of his bastard half-brother Ramsay Snow, he went against his father’s wishes and tried to befriend Ramsay. However, soon after his visit to Ramsay, Domeric fell ill. A ‘bad belly’ they say it was. After Domeric’s death, Lord Bolton, in need of an heir, brought Ramsay to the Dreadfort.” 

Althea, then narrows her eyes. She leans in closer to Lena. “A lot of people actually think that Ramsay had something to do with Domeric’s death.” Althea says. “Coincidentally, Domeric fell ill soon after he visited Ramsay. There are many smallfolk around here who think that Ramsay actually _poisoned_ poor Domeric.” 

Lena, gasps and looks down at her son. “That is terrible.” Lena says. “To think that bastard could have poisoned his own half-brother...just sends shivers down my spine.” 

Mordred, gurgles a little. _My father could have actually poisoned his own brother?_ Mordred thinks to himself. _That is messed up._

Lena, holds her son closer. “I must keep my boy away from that man.” Lena says with determination. “I will not raise another Ramsay Snow.” 

* * *

The light of morning shines through the windows of the inn. Inside the bedroom, Lena, is breastfeeding Mordred. Lena, sighs as she remembers what today is. This is the day she is going to leave the inn and Dalia’s family. Lena, holds back a few tears. Mordred, can sense his mother’s sadness. It was one of his gifts as a druid. He could sense the pain of others, even emotional pain. Even with his rebirth, Mordred, can still sense the pain of others. Maybe he has retained some of his magic. 

_I know that you are sad mama…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I wish there was someway I could make you feel better._

Just then, Dalia, walks into the room. She carries an old cloth shoulder bag, that looks as if it has been mended many, many times. “Here…,” Dalia says with a sadness. “This is for you to carry your son’s things. It is very old and my family does not use it anymore. However, it should last you to White Harbor.” 

Lena, looks inside the bag. There are two loaves of bread, two apples and a few copper pennies in the bottom of the bag. The area that Dalia and her family live in is one of the places where cold hardy apple trees can be found. Dalia’s family actually has two apple trees on their land. Dalia, picks up the little stash of diapers that she helped Lena make. Dalia, stuffs the diapers into the bag. 

“Now remember,” Dalia says. “The way to White Harbor is actually very simple to remember.” 

Dalia, stands straight. “Alright, first you must follow the road past the Dreadfort until you reach a fork with a boulder to the left of the fork. Turn onto the fork and walk. The road runs past the castle belonging to House Hornwood. I expect it to be almost nightfall when you reach the Hornwood’s castle. Travelers say that there is a little village outlying the castle. Find a place to stay for the night and continue on with your journey when morning comes. You should reach White Harbor by nightfall then.” 

Lena, holds back a few tears. “Thank you Dalia for all you have done for me.” Lena says. “I shall miss you very much.” 

Dalia, struggles to hold back tears as well. “I shall miss you to.” Dalia says. 

At that moment, Mordred, is done nursing. He makes a few gurgling sounds to signal that he is done. Lena, places Mordred’s head on her shoulder and gently pats his back to help him burp. After a few minutes, Mordred, lets out a few small burps. Lena, then places Mordred, on top of a blanket and begins wrapping him up. Once her son is wrapped tightly in blankets, Lena, slings the shoulder bag over her shoulder and then picks up baby Mordred. Mordred’s head is cradled in the crook of Lena’s arm as she follows Dalia, out of the room. Dalia and Lena, walk out past the kitchen, which bustles with activity. A girl no older than twelve watches Dalia and Lena walk out the kitchen together. The girl turns to a woman who is mixing up some pie crust in a bowl. 

“Mother…where are Dalia and Lena going?” The girl asks curiously. 

The woman, gets a sad look on her face. “Lena is leaving us.” The woman says sadly. “She is going to White Harbor to protect herself and her son from Ramsay Snow.” 

The girl gasps. “Lena is leaving?!” The girl asks with a shocked voice. “But...I don’t want her to leave.” 

The woman sighs. “I know dear, but it is for the best.” The woman says. “Mordred, will not be a baby forever and once he starts walking he could wander off. Someone from the Dreadfort could see Mordred’s eyes and report to lord Bolton and Ramsay Snow. Lena, must leave for the sake of her herself and her baby.” 

Outside the Inn, Dalia and Lena, stand just outside of the doorway. Lena, sheds a few tears as she faces Dalia. “Farewell...Dalia.” Lena says with a broken voice. “Thank you for everything you and your family have done for me. If it wasn’t for you taking in, I do not know what would have happened to me...or my son.” 

Dalia, gives Lena a sad smile. “You are a fine young woman.” Dalia says. “I could see that when you stumbled into the village square those many moons ago. Just remember this...you are more than you realize you are. You are young and beautiful. You are a hard worker and you have a golden heart. You are also very strong and intelligent. Don’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.” 

Lena, sniffles and manages to smile at Dalia’s words. “You are very kind.” Lena says. 

Dalia, then looks down at Mordred, all wrapped up snugly within blankets. Dalia, smiles as Mordred, snuggles up to Lena’s body. “Your little ladd loves you Lena.” Dalia says. “Don’t ever forget that. I shall miss him as well. He is so sweet.” 

Lena, holds her son closer. “I just hope that he will always be that way.” Lena says. 

Dalia, puts a hand on Lena’s shoulder. “Raise him right and he shall always be a good ladd.” Dalia says. “And remember, as you are walking try not to look at the Dreadfort. Just look straight ahead and remember why you are doing this. Focus on the future, not the past.” 

Lena, blinks a few times. “I will try.” Lena says. “Again...thank you for everything.” 

Mordred, blinks as he listens to his mother and Dalia talk. Mordred, can sense his mother’s sadness. Mordred, is actually slightly sad as well. He has gotten used to Dalia’s sweet voice and gentle touch. To know that he shall never hear that sweet voice, or feel those soft gentle hands hold him again, actually makes Mordred sad. He shall miss Dalia as well. 

Lena, takes a deep breath and turns around. She slowly walks down the small road leading away from the village. Just walking down this road brings back so many memories. 

_Lena, hyperventilates as she staggers towards the village square. Bruises and cuts are visible all over Lena’s bare skin. Blood, trickles down Lena’s legs. She eventually collapses right in the middle of the village square. Villagers slowly gather round to see what the commotion is about._

_“...Help...me…,” Lena says weakly. “Somebody please help me.”_

_Villagers narrow their eyes and back away when they realize exactly where the blood is coming from. One by one, the villagers start to disperse. Lena, is left alone in the middle of the village square._

_“Somebody...help me please.” Lena says weakly. “Please.”_

_Lena, then hears footsteps approaching. She looks up to see the face of a woman. The woman has long brown hair and the most beautiful brown eyes. The eyes hold a warmth that Lena herself has never seen before. The woman gasps and tenderly takes Lena’s head into her hands._

_“Oh my…,” The woman says. “You poor child. Don’t worry, I am here to help. My name is Dalia. What is yours?”_

_“Lena…,” Lena says with a weak voice. “Lena Snow.”_

Lena, sheds a few tears at the memory. When Lena had first seen Dalia, she instantly knew that Dalia was someone she could trust. Dalia, was so gentle and caring when she treated Lena’s wounds. 

_Lena, lies stark naked on a bed, that has been covered with a very old sheet. Dalia and another woman both old wet rags. Dalia and the woman gently clean Lena’s wounds with the rags. A bowl of hot water sits on a table between the two women. Dalia, frowns at the now blood red water in the bowl. She turns to the other woman._

_“Petunia, go empty the bowl and refill it with clean water.” Dalia says._

_The other woman, Petunia, nods quickly and grabs the bowl. In one swift motion Petunia, leaves the room. Dalia and Lena, are left alone in the room. Nearby, a hearth with a roaring fire, warms the room._

_“I hope that you are not too cold.” Dalia says._

_Lena, sighs. “I am alright, the fire is warm enough.” Lena says._

_Dalia, looks at Lena’s body. Lena’s cuts have been carefully cleaned. There is just one area on Lena’s body that has yet to be tended too. Lena’s vaginal area. Dalia, shudders a little at the sight of Lena’s blood soaked vaginal area. “Once Petunia returns I must clean the area between your legs.” Dalia says._

_Lena, shudders as she remembers what happened to her. Dalia, grabs Lena’s hand. “I will try to be as gentle as possible.” Dalia says. “Petunia will hold your hand while I clean the area.”_

Lena, blinks a few times. Dalia, was so gentle while tending to her. Dalia, had allowed Lena to live at the inn while she recovered. Then, in time, it became evident that Lena was pregnant. Lena, was afraid that Dalia would decide to throw her out. However, Dalia, still allowed Lena to live at the inn.

 _Lena, sobs a little as she stares at the hearth. A tiny yet visible bump sits on her abdomen. Dalia, gives Lena a sad look. “Don’t worry Lena, everything will be alright.” Dalia says. “I will help you.”_

Lena, momentarily stops walking. She turns around to look at the village one last time. The village, is now a small speck in the horizon behind Lena. Lena, blinks and turns her head towards the horizon in front of her. The little road leading to the village continues on for many miles. To the left of the road, Lena can make out the outline of the Dreadfort nestled within the surrounding forest. Lena, gulps and turns away. She remembers Dalia’s words. 

_Try not to look at the Dreadfort. Just look straight ahead and remember why you are doing this. Focus on the future, not the past._ Lena remembers Dalia saying. 

Lena, closes her eyes. _Don’t look at the Dreadfort…,_ Lena thinks to herself. _Just look straight ahead._

Lena, takes a deep breath and resumes walking.


	3. Inevitable doom

In a dark and muddy forest, a teenage girl runs through the trees. The girl has long blonde hair, blue eyes and small pink lips. The girl wears a pale blue dress. Tears stream down the girl’s face as she runs. Loud dog barking follows her. The girl turns to look behind her. Three large and vicious looking dogs, each with coats of dark fur, chase after the girl. The dogs bark ferociously as they chase the girl. 

The girl hyperventilates as she runs. An arrow flies past her head. Behind the dogs, two diabolical laughs ring out through the silent forest. The diabolical laughs belong to a young man and a young woman. The young man has black hair, very pale ghost grey eyes and light skin. The man wears leather and woolen clothing that is black and gray, and carries bows and arrows on his back. The young woman has brown hair and dark eyes. The young woman wears a dark woolen dress with a leather vest. The young woman also carries bows and arrows on her back. The young woman fires up another bow and shoots it at the girl. The arrows misses the girl’s head by a mere inch. The girl screams and continues to run for her life. 

The young woman looks at the young man with a smirk. “This one sure is fast.” The young woman says with some enthusiasm. 

The young man laughs. “She sure is Myranda.” The young man says. “This has turned out to be quite an exciting hunt.” 

The man fires up an arrow and shoots. The girl hears the arrow flying through the air and manages to dodge it. The man laughs again. “And she is very good at dodging arrows!” The man says. 

The man stops running momentarily and laughs. “Run Annie…,” The man yells. “Run, run! Just keep on running and you will win this ‘game’.” 

The girl, Annie, gulps and ends up tripping over a tree root. She scrambles to get up but she lets out a scream as a searing pain shoots up her leg. Annie looks to see an arrow sticking out of her left leg. The dogs bark ferociously as they surround the girl. Annie, cries with pain and terror. The man and woman approach. The man and the woman, Myranda, both grin maliciously. 

“Oh look at that, it looks like Myranda and I win this game.” The man says with a jeering voice full of malice. 

Annie, cries some more. “Please...let me go.” Annie says with a broken voice. 

The man laughs and shakes his head. “And why would I do that?” The man asks with a teasing tone of voice. 

The woman, Myranda, looks at Annie with a look full of jealousy. “Do you think she is pretty Ramsay?” Myranda asks the man. 

The man, Ramsay, cocks his head a little as he looks at Annie’s face. “Hm...perhaps.” Ramsay says. “Why, are you jealous Myranda?” 

Myranda, scoffs. “Me? Jealous?” Myranda asks. “Why should I be? I am not jealous.” 

Ramsay, laughs sadistically. “You are jealous!” Ramsay says. “I can tell. Oh well, I know just how to remedy the situation.” 

Ramsay, grins sadistically at Annie who grovels on the ground. “GET HER!” Ramsay yells. 

All three dogs bark ferociously and lung at Annie. Annie, lets out blood curdling screams as she is mauled by the dogs. Within minutes, it is all over. The dogs start eating Annie’s corpse. 

Myranda, grins at the sight before her. “Well, she isn’t pretty now.” Myranda says. 

Ramsay, laughs. “No she isn’t.” Ramsay says. “The dogs seem to be enjoying her. She must be good meat.” 

Just then, the dogs stop chewing and lift their blood soaked snouts into the air. All three dogs sniff the air and start growling. The dogs take off towards the left, leaving Annie’s mangled and blood soaked corpse behind. Ramsay and Myranda, look at each other with confused looks. 

“Where are your ‘girls’ going?” Myranda asks. “They didn’t even finish eating the wenches body.” 

Ramsay, just shrugs. “I don’t know.” Ramsay says. “Let’s go figure out where they’re going.” 

Ramsay and Myranda, take off after the dogs, leaving Annie’s partially eaten corpse on the muddy ground. 

* * *

Lena, hums to herself as she walks down the road. Mordred, is nestled securely in her arms. Mordred, naps peacefully within his wrappings. Lena, smiles at the sight. Her son fell asleep a little while ago. Lena, then frowns when she looks back behind her. The Dreadfort is now behind her. A looming shape on the horizon. Lena, shivers.  _ Just keep walking…, _ Lena thinks to herself.  _ Don’t think about the Dreadfort. _

However, Lena, soon comes across an unexpected obstacle. A fallen tree, is blocking the road. Lena, lets out a frustrated huff.  _ Great…, _ Lena thinks.  _ Now I have to go around it. _

Lena, looks to the left side of the road. The ground there appears less muddy than the ground on the right side of the road. Lena, sighs and walks to the left, going around the fallen tree. However, just as Lena, is about to step back onto the road, she hears a familiar sound. The sound stops Lena dead in her tracks. The sound...is dog barking. Very loud dog barking. Lena, covers her mouth with one of her hands to keep herself from screaming. She knows that dog barking very well. Those are Ramsay Snow’s dogs. And...it sounds like they are coming right for her. 

_ They must have picked up my scent…, _ Lena thinks to herself as tears threaten to fall from her eyes.  _ They remember my scent. _

Mordred, blinks as he feels his mother holds him a little tighter. Mordred, whimpers as he suddenly hears a strange yet loud sound. It…is dog barking. Mordred, then hears his mother whimper.  _ What...what is going on? _ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Lena, can’t hold it in anymore. She uncovers her mouth and lets out a blood curdling scream. The scream startles Mordred, causing him to cry. Lena, whimpers again. The dogs are getting closer. She must act quickly. Lena, quickly shifts Mordred, so that he is against her chest. Lena, uses both of her arms to hold the bundle against her. Lena, then takes off running as fast as she can, holding onto her son for dear life. She can hear the hounds approaching. Ramsay has to be with them. He just has to be.

Lena, runs as fast as she can. She knows that she won’t be able to keep this up forever, but she hopes the dogs will tire out before she does, allowing her a chance to escape. Lena, momentarily looks down at Mordred. Her son’s life depends on their escape. Lena, has heard rumors as to how Ramsay feeds his hounds. Lena, will not allow her son to become dog food. Lena, hears the snapping of jaws right behind her. These hounds are out for blood. Her blood. Just then, between the dog barking, Lena hears a diabolical laugh. Lena, almost screams again. That bastard has found them. She will never forget that horrid laugh. The laugh of absolute evil. 

Ramsay, laughs as he watches his dogs chase the unknown woman down the road. Myranda, runs closely by his side. 

“Oh look at that Myranda, my girls have found another target for us!” Ramsay says with a diabolical laugh. “Looks like we are going to have quite an exciting day!” 

Myranda, looks closely at the mysterious girl running from the hounds. The girl looks familiar for some reason. And...it looks like she is carrying something in her arms. 

“Is it just me or does it look like that girl is carrying something?” Myranda asks. 

Ramsay, narrows his eyes. “She  _ is _ carrying something.” Ramsay agrees. Ramsay, then grins and fires up an arrow. “Why don’t we stop her and find out what she has?” 

Ramsay, shoots the arrow right towards Lena. However, the arrow misses her by mere inches. Myranda, then fires up her bow and shoots an arrow. The arrow slices the Lena’s left leg, causing her to trip and fall. 

Lena, gasps as she starts to fall. She turns her body just enough so that she doesn’t fall right on top of Mordred. Lena, whimpers and tries to calm Mordred, as the dogs surround them. 

Mordred, lets out a few cries.  _ What is going on? _ Mordred thinks to himself.  _ Why did mama fall? And...why are there dogs barking? _

“Heel!” Ramsay yells, causing the dogs to stop barking. The dogs back away a little. Lena, tries to shield Mordred, as Ramsay approaches. 

Myranda’s eyes widen in realization of who they just found. That one girl who escaped Ramsay’s ‘game’. The one who got away. And...Myranda now realizes just what the girl was trying to protect. Held tightly in the girls arms is a small bundle of blankets. Tiny cries are coming from the bundle. It is a baby. 

Ramsay, blinks as he tries to remember where he has seen this girl before. Then, after looking at the girl’s face for a few moments, it finally hits him. That one girl. The one that got away. Ramsay, grins a sadistic grin. Well, she won’t be getting away this time. 

“Well, look at this.” Ramsay says with a sadistic smile as he looks at Myranda. “It’s the one who got away. And look...she is a mother.” 

Myranda, blinks a few times. “Motherhood actually suits her.” Myranda says with a sarcastic voice. “The way she is trying to protect the little brat is actually quite precious.” 

Lena, is literally quaking with fear. The man hasn’t changed one bit. His cold eyes. His sadistic smile. It is all the same.  _ No…, _ Lena thinks to herself.  _ This can’t be happening _ . 

Ramsay, smirks and looks at Lena. “You may have escaped the last time...but you can’t escape now.” Ramsay says with an evil smirk. His eyes then trail down to Mordred. “I can’t wait to play another ‘game’ with you. We’ll see if you and your  _ babe _ can get away.” 

Lena, gasps with horror. She realizes what this means. Another chase through the forest. But this time...her leg is injured, and she has a baby to carry. This is not good. Lena, glances at Mordred and the dogs. If she doesn’t escape, not only will she perish but Mordred as well. Lena, can’t get the image of her son being ripped apart by the vicious dogs out of her mind. She gulps.  _ I have to tell him…, _ Lena thinks to herself. 

“I will give you a head start.” Ramsay says smirking. Ramsay, holds up his fingers. “Starting in...—”

“Wait!” Lena cries. “There is something that I must tell you!” 

“I didn’t say that you could speak girl.” Ramsay says. “Oh wait...what is your name again? I must know for our game.” 

“Lena Snow.” Lena says breathless. “And please you must listen…—”

“Ten…,” Ramsay says as he starts counting down. “Nine….” 

Lena’s eyes widen with horror. He isn’t interested in hearing what she has to say. The bastard is too interested in hunting her. Maybe she should just try to run away and hope she escapes. If not maybe after his hunt he will be more interested. If he doesn’t set his dogs upon her before she can say anything. 

“Six…,” Ramsay says. “Five...—”

Lena, gets to her feet and runs as fast as she can, ignoring the pain in her leg. She clutches Mordred, tightly to her chest. Ramsay, smirks as he watches Lena run. “Four…,” Ramsay says as he continues to countdown. “Three...two...and ONE!” 

Ramsay smirks. “GO GET EM!” Ramsay yells to his dogs. The dogs bark ferociously as they start running after Lena. Ramsay turns to Myranda. “Shall we?” 

“Oh yes.” Myranda says with a smirk as she follows Ramsay. 

Mordred, whimpers as he feels his mother moving erratically, which jolts him this way and that. Mordred, has figured out exactly what is going on. Mordred, was listening the entire time. The man who has sent his dogs after them is his father. His vile rapist of a father. And if Mordred and his mother cannot escape the dogs...they will both be ripped apart. 

_ Run mama…, _ Mordred thinks to himself.  _ Run mama! _

Just then, Mordred, hears a strange noise. Lena, shrieks and jerks herself to the left. Mordred, knows exactly what that sound was. It was an arrow flying through the air. His father and his female partner are shooting arrows at Mordred and his mother. 

_ Run mama…, _ Mordred thinks.  _ Run for your life. For our lives! _

Then, Mordred, hears the sound of another arrow. Lena, lets out a blood curdling scream and falls to the ground. They must have wounded Lena.  _ Mama no! _ Mordred thinks. 

Ramsay, smirks at the sight of Lena, lying on the ground, an arrows sticking out of her right leg. Myranda, runs up beside him. Myranda, smirks at the sight as well. Ramsay, turns to her. 

“That was a nice shot.” Ramsay says to Myranda with a smirk. “You got her!” 

Myranda, smiles and flips her hair seductively. “Thank you.” Myranda says. 

Ramsay, looks at Lena, who is tearfully stroking her Mordred’s head. “Aw…,” Ramsay says mockingly. “How sweet. Now don’t cry. It will be over before you know it.” 

Lena, tearfully turns and holds the little bundle up towards Ramsay and Myranda. “You win…,” Lena says weakly, admitting defeat. “But please...spare my son. He doesn’t deserve to die.” 

Ramsay, narrows his eyes. “And why would I do that?” Ramsay asks with a mocking voice. “Your son is good meat for my girls.” 

Lena, gulps.  _ No going back now…, _ Lena thinks to herself.  _ However, I have no choice. It is the only way to save Mordred. _

“Because…,” Lena says trying to force the words out. “He is  _ your _ son.” 

Ramsay, stands silent for a minute. He narrows his eyes again. “Say that again.” Ramsay says with a hard voice. 

“He is your son!” Lena cries with a bitter voice. “When you raped me all those moons ago, you spilled your seed into me. This child is the result of your vile deed. He is your son. Our son!” 

Ramsay’s face contorts with rage. “You lie! How dare you try to pin your little bastard on me!” Ramsay says. 

“He has your eyes!” Lena says with desperation. “Just look at him and you will see. The proof is in the eyes.” 

Ramsay, rubs his chin as he thinks about this for a minute. Then, he looks at Lena with his cold pale eyes. “Alright then, I shall take a little look at the little bastard. If you are lying, then I shall throw him to the hounds.” Ramsay says. 

Ramsay, approaches and literally rips the bundle from Lena’s hands. Lena, whimpers. She doesn’t like the idea of the bastard’s hands on Mordred, but there is nothing she can do about it. Ramsay, scowls as he looks at the tiny face peeking out of the blankets. The tiny face scowls back at him. A pair of pale ghost grey eyes gazes back at him. Ramsay, blinks a few times as he processes the sight before him. The child does have his eyes. The same ghost grey eyes that Ramsay himself has. The eyes of Ramsay’s father, Roose Bolton. Bolton eyes. The scowl that the babe possesses is also reminiscent of Ramsay’s own scowl, and Roose’s scowl as well. This child does have Bolton blood. Ramsay, blinks again. The boy  _ is _ his son. 

Mordred, blinks as he tries to focus on the blurry face before him. This man is his father? Mordred, can literally feel the evil radiating off of this man. Mordred, feels himself scowl as he thinks of the one thing on his mind right now.  _ I don’t like you, _ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Ramsay, takes a deep breath. “Alright, I shall admit it.” Ramsay says. “The boy is my son. He certainly does have my eyes. He even has my scowl.” 

Myranda, stands off to the side, a little behind Ramsay. She scowls as she looks at the face of the babe. She can see it too. The babe is Ramsay’s son. 

_ This little wench gave Ramsay a son. _ Myranda thinks. She is consumed with anger and jealousy. _ I was supposed to give Ramsay sons…, Not this nobody bastard girl. _

Ramsay, looks at Lena. “I do remember now. I found you in one of the villages nearby.” Ramsay says. “You are a baseborn bastard of House Cerwyn.” 

Ramsay, then smirks. “Oh, by the way, I really enjoyed our sex...even though you fought me the entire time.” Ramsay says. “That was quite memorable.” 

Lena, bites her tongue, trying to keep herself from snapping. “Yes, it was memorable for me too.” Lena says with a tinge of bitterness. “And by the way...his name is Mordred.” Lena says. “I gave birth to him exactly seven days ago.” 

Ramsay, raises a brow. “Mordred?” Ramsay asks. “Interesting name.” 

Lena, gasps as the pain in her leg radiates throughout her body. A part of her wants to mention the whispering she heard after Mordred’s birth. However, Ramsay might think her mad if she mentions that. 

Ramsay, scowls as he glances at Lena. “The boy is my son…,” Ramsay says. “But...I have no use for a  _ bastard _ son.” 

Lena, gasps with horror. The bastard  _ still _ wants to feed Mordred to his dogs. “But you have acknowledged him!” Lena cries with desperation. “He is your son!” 

“Like I said a bastard son is of no use to me.” Ramsay says. “It’s better if he just...disappears.” 

Ramsay, then smirks as he looks at his hungry dogs. “I’m sure the little brat will make a nice little ‘dessert’ for my girls after they finish you off.” Ramsay says. “Or...I could have you watch as they devour him.” 

Mordred, whimpers. His father still wants to feed him to his dogs.  _ Goodbye cruel world…, _ Mordred thinks. 

Lena, let’s out a horrified wail. “NO!” Lena screams. “Please, he is your son! Isn’t  _ kinslaying _ an accursed crime?!” 

Ramsay, blinks as he thinks about this. He hadn’t cared about that fact when he poisoned Domeric. Then again, this child is his own son. The gods, if they exist at all, would more than likely curse him if he kills his own son, even if the child is just a bastard. 

“Please…,” Lena says weakly through her tears. “He is absolutely perfect. He is so strong and healthy.” 

Mordred, whines a little at the sound of his mother’s desperate voice. She is doing everything in her power to save him.  _ Mama, please don’t cry…, _ Mordred thinks.  _ I hate hearing you cry.  _

Ramsay, raises a brow as he looks at his son. The girl is right. The boy certainly looks as if he will grow to be a strong man. And perhaps if his Lord father sees that he has produced a healthy son, maybe he will reconsider Ramsay’s position. 

“Hmm...alright then, the little tyke shall come with me back to the Dreadfort.” Ramsay says. Ramsay, then smiles wickedly. “However, you shall die right here. Any last words?” 

Mordred, whimpers and shifts within his wrappings.  _ No! _ Mordred thinks, horrified at his father’s words.  _ Mama no! _

Lena, has no words. She just looks at her son in the vile bastard’s hands. She failed Mordred. She failed to protect the boy from Ramsay’s influence. She can only hope that the bastard fails at tainting Mordred’s innocence. Lena, silently prays to the old gods. 

_ Please...if you can hear me…, _ Lena silently prays.  _ Please don’t allow my son to be influenced by his father’s wicked and evil ways. Don’t allow my son to follow his father’s evil ways. _

Ramsay, smirks. “Alright then…,” Ramsay says as he smirks. “Say goodbye.” 

Seconds later, Ramsay’s lets out a loud whistle. The dogs howl and lunge at Lena. Lena, lets out blood curdling screams as the dogs viciously begin mauling her. 

_ MAMA NO! _ Mordred thinks as he hears his mother scream and the dogs viciously tearing at her flesh. Even though Mordred, cannot see what is happening, he can hear and  _ feel _ his mother’s pain.  _ MAMA NO! _

Mordred, just can’t take it. Mordred, lets out loud ear piercing wails. Ramsay, almost drops Mordred right there. Myranda, covers her ears, but even that isn’t enough to block out the wail. 

“Seven hells, this brat has a set of lungs!” Myranda says through gritted teeth. 

Ramsay, frowns and grits his own teeth. “QUIET!” Ramsay yells as he holds Mordred up in front of him. “I SAID QUIET!” 

Within a minute, Mordred, stops wailing. He can’t feel his mother’s pain anymore. That can only mean one thing. Lena...is dead. Mordred, whimpers a little as he hears the dogs snapping jaws. Those horrid hounds are  _ eating _ his mother’s corpse. 

_ No Mama...no…, _ Mordred thinks sorrowfully.  _ Why...why? _

Ramsay, looks at his now quieter son. Ramsay, glances at the bloody mangled mess that used to be Lena. As the dogs ravage the corpse, Myranda, lets out a smirk. The wench is finally dead. 

Mordred, blinks as he remembers his past life. He never knew his biological parents. Mordred, had always yearned for a mother to love and care for him. When Mordred was reborn, he finally gained the mother he had always desired. But now...she has been taken away from him. Mauled to death and eaten by dogs. 

Mordred, whimpers as he remembers the day Emry’s almost let him get killed by the Camelot soldiers. Mordred, remembers what he telepathically said to Emry’s. 

_ I shall never forgive this Emry’s, And I shall never forget…, _ Mordred remembers his young self saying to the magical user. At that time Mordred felt so hurt and angry at Emry’s betrayal. Mordred, had never forgotten that day, but he actually got passed the anger. Deep down Mordred felt that Emry’s must have been afraid of his power and thought it better that the young boy die. After all, Mordred did use a spell to take out a bunch of soldiers of Camelot right in front of Emry’s. 

Mordred, scowls as he stares up at his father’s face. Mordred, feels something that he hasn’t felt since his past life. Hatred. Mordred, hates this man. The hatred and anger reminds Mordred of that day when he was almost killed by those soldiers of Camelot. The day Emry’s betrayed him. Even if his father cannot hear him, Mordred, knows just what he wants to say to the vile man.

_ Father, I shall never forgive you for what you have done, _ Mordred thinks.  _ Never! I shall also never forget your great crime. You took my mother away from me. You have officially made an enemy of me. _

Ramsay, narrows his eyes as he looks at his son’s tiny scowling face. Ramsay, shakes his head as a strange feeling overcomes him. Ramsay, can only think of one thing when he looks at the tiny scowl again. His son doesn’t like him. Ramsay, knows one thing for certain now. Somehow, his little bastard son is going to make his life a living hell. 

Ramsay, shakes his head again when he looks at the child’s big pale, accusing eyes. The child’s stare is literally bearing right into Ramsay’s soul. Ramsay’s breath hitches a little. Something isn’t right about this child. 

Myranda, looks at Ramsay with some worry. She has never seen him like this. “Ramsay, is something wrong?” Myranda asks. 

Myranda’s question breaks Ramsay out of his thoughts. Ramsay, just blinks a few times. “It’s nothing.” Ramsay says quickly. He can’t show weakness. “As soon as the hounds are done with the body, we shall go find Annie’s body and let my girl’s finish her off. Then, we shall go back to the Dreadfort.” 

Ramsay, blinks a few times. He really needs to think of how he will explain this to his father.


	4. The Dreadfort

The sun is just beginning to set when Ramsay and Myranda arrive at the Dreadfort with baby Mordred. Myranda, gleefully looks at the five copper pennies in her hand. The other hand, holds the dogs ropes. After the dogs finished off Lena’s body, Ramsay and Myranda, decided to just look inside the cloth sack that Lena was carrying. Inside, they had found cloth baby diapers, baby clothes, some bread and a few apples, along with five copper pennies. Lena’s blood had soaked in through the sack and covered all of the contents within the sack in blood. Ramsay and Myranda, immediately decided to bury everything to make sure no one would ever find out what happened to Lena. However, the blood on the copper pennies was easily washed off in a stream. Ramsay, let Myranda keep the copper pennies as a gift. 

Ramsay, looks down at the sleeping baby in his hands. Ramsay’s story to everyone at the Dreadfort regarding how he acquired Mordred shall be very simple. The story shall be that he and Myranda were out hunting when they came across Mordred’s _sick_ mother walking down the road running past the Dreadfort. The girl handed off baby Mordred to Ramsay telling the latter that the babe was his son. Then, the girl collapsed and died. Ramsay and Myranda, proceeded to bury the _poor_ girl in the forest. Hopefully, everyone at the Dreadfort believes the story, especially Lord Bolton. 

Ramsay, approaches the gate. Myranda, puts the copper pennies into a dress pocket. If someone sees the pennies, questions regarding how she acquired them will arise. The guard at the top, looks down and sees Ramsay and Myranda. “OPEN UP THIS GATE RIGHT NOW!” Ramsay yells to the guard. 

The guard, a young man with short brown hair and dark brown eyes, quickly obeys. The gate is open within a few seconds. Ramsay and Myranda, enter the courtyard which buzzes with activity. People walk about in a hurry, trying to get much needed chores done. A few guards walk up to Ramsay and Myranda to welcome them home. 

“Welcome back Lord Snow,” A guard says. “How was—”

However, the guard doesn’t finish his sentence. The guard looks wide eyed at the bundle in Ramsay’s hands. The other guards also stare at baby Mordred. 

“Lord Snow…,” The first guard finally says with a surprised and uneasy voice. “Is that a babe in your hands?” 

“This is Mordred Snow…,” Ramsay says with a simple voice. “My bastard son.” 

The guards look at each other with wide eyes. “Bastard son!?” The first guard says with wide eyes. 

“Yes, my bastard son.” Ramsay says with some annoyance. 

The guards all glance at each other. “Who is the mother Lord Snow?” One of the guardsmen asks. 

Myranda, grits her teeth. She knew the question of the little bastard’s mother would come up eventually. 

“Just some Northern bastard girl.” Ramsay says no no emotion. “I bedded her once.” 

Mordred, blinks within his wrappings. _Bedded…,_ Mordred thinks sourly. _No...you raped her._

Myranda, draws in a deep breath to keep herself from losing it. Just the thought of that nobody bastard girl fills her with rage. 

The first guard looks around. He didn’t see another girl with Ramsay or Myranda. “Well then, where is the girl?” The guard asks. 

“Dead.” Ramsay says simply with no emotion. “While Myranda and I were out hunting we came across the girl walking down the road with the babe in her arms. The girl was clearly very sick as she was pale and looked very weak. The girl gave me the babe and said that he was my son. When I saw that he had my eyes, I couldn’t deny it. Of course I claimed him. Then, right after I claimed the boy, the girl suddenly collapsed and died right there on the road. Myranda and I carried the girl’s body into the woods and buried her there.” 

Mordred, blinks within his wrappings. _Liar…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _You murdered her by feeding her to your dogs._

The first guard blinks a few times. It’s as if the guard is finding the story hard to believe. However, the guard simply sighs. Ramsay, then realizes that the courtyard has gone silent. He looks around. Servants and guards alike stand around and stare at the scene before them. People start whispering. Ramsay, grits his teeth. Everyone within the courtyard was listening to the entire conversation. 

“Ramsay Snow has a bastard son.” Ramsay hears the laundry maid whisper to the scullery maid. 

“Ramsay Snow has fathered a bastard son.” Ramsay hears a guard whisper to another guard. 

Ramsay, grits his teeth. At this rate, the whole castle will know by sundown. Just then, Locke, Roose’s master-at-arms comes out into the courtyard. Ramsay, smiles a little. 

Locke smiles. “Hello Lord Snow, back from your hunt I see.” Locke says. 

Ramsay, just shares a knowing look with Locke. Locke, has always been aware of Ramsay’s sadistic games with girls. However, Locke just simply chooses to let it be and not inform Lord Bolton. 

Locke, looks at Ramsay and Myranda and notices that they have no kind of animals to show for their time in the forest. After Ramsay and Myranda hunt women in the forest the two of them always find an animal to bring back to the Dreadfort. This way, no one questions Ramsay and Myranda when they come back from hunting. 

“The two of you don’t have a prize to show for your time in the forest.” Locke says teasingly. “Bad luck today?” 

Just then, Locke’s eyes land on the bundle in Ramsay’s hands. Locke, narrows his eyes. “What is that?” Locke asks with a surprised and questioning voice. 

Myranda, resists the urge to roll her eyes. Locke, is acting like he has never seen a baby before. Ramsay, draws in a deep breath. “This is my bastard son, Mordred Snow.” Ramsay says. 

Locke’s eyes widen instantly. Then, the man lets out a laugh. “The great Ramsay Snow, has fathered a bastard.” Locke says through his laughing. “This is quite amusing. However, I don’t think your father will find this amusing.” 

Ramsay, simply blinks at Locke’s words. Locke, is right. Ramsay, can only imagine the reaction of his father when the latter learns of this. 

Locke, stops laughing. “So, who is the mother?” Locke asks. Locke, glances at Myranda. “Is it Myranda? But...I don’t recall Myranda getting _fat_.” 

Myranda, has to grit her teeth to keep herself from screaming in rage. Of course Locke would think that she is the mother of the little bastard. “No!” Myranda says with a deathly voice. “The mother was just some Northern bastard girl that Ramsay bedded.” 

Locke, raises a brow. “Was?” Locke asks. 

“She’s dead.” Ramsay says. “She was ill. Very ill. Myranda and I came across her while hunting. It seems she decided to take a little trip in her sickened state. She handed me the boy and told me he was my son. Well, I couldn’t deny it since the boy has my eyes. Right after I claimed him, the girl collapsed and died. Myranda and I buried her in the forest.” 

Locke, raises another brow. He then looks at the dogs. The dogs appear to be unusually fat. Locke, just smiles when he realizes the truth. Of course Ramsay wouldn’t waste good meat for his hounds. Locke, just shrugs and looks closely at baby Mordred. 

“He has your eyes.” Locke says with a laugh. Locke, just smirks at the sight of baby Mordred scowling up at him. “He also has your scowl!” 

Mordred, scowls has he looks at the blurry face above him. Mordred can tell that the blurry face and voice belong to a man. Mordred, can feel evil radiating off of the man. _I don’t like you…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Ramsay, stands straight. “Where is my father?” Ramsay asks Locke. 

Locke, blinks a few times. “He is in the great hall, eating his dinner, discussing something with maester Wolkan.” Locke says. “Lord Bolton actually returned just before you did. He went out to deal with some business south of the Weeping waters.” 

“I see…,” Ramsay says. “Take me to him.” 

Locke, nods. “Let’s hope that he is in a good mood.” Locke says. 

Ramsay, turns to Myranda. “Put my girls back in the kennels.” Ramsay says. 

Myranda, nods and starts leading the dogs towards the kennels. A pair of eyes follows Myranda’s movements. It is the laundry woman. The laundry woman is a plump woman with deep gray eyes and black hair. The laundry woman narrows her eyes at the sight of the dogs. She doesn’t believe Ramsay’s story about what happened to the babe’s mother one bit. The laundry woman does know one thing for sure. The dogs are incredibly fat now. A whole lot fatter than before they left the Dreadfort. 

_The bastard didn’t bury the girl’s body…,_ The laundry woman thinks to herself. _He fed her body to his horrid dogs. That explains why the dogs are fatter than before._

Suddenly, the scullery maid turns to the laundry woman. The scullery maid is a very young woman with brown hair and light blue eyes. “Have you seen Annie?” The scullery maid asks the laundry woman. 

The laundry woman narrows her eyes. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t.” The laundry woman whispers. 

Then, the laundry woman and the scullery maid both glance towards the kennels. After a few minutes, the two women both gasp in realization. The dogs are _fatter_ than they have ever been. Poor Annie. The babe’s poor mother.

* * *

Locke, leads Ramsay to a quiet part of the castle. Ramsay, looks around. “This isn’t the great hall Locke.” Ramsay says with suspicion. 

Locke, looks at Ramsay. “I just wanted to discuss something with you before we go talk to Lord Bolton.” Locke says. “I would like to know what really happened to the babe’s mother. It isn’t like you to waste good meat for the dogs. And...I daresay the dogs look to be fatter than before. Incredibly fat.” 

Ramsay, blinks a few times. He supposes he can let Locke in on his and Myranda’s little secret. “Well, Myranda and I took Annie out into the forest to hunt. She bored me so it was time to get rid of her.” 

Locke, raises a brow. “Annie? That one bedwarmer of yours?” Locke asks. 

Mordred, blinks as he tries to process the information that he just heard. _Annie?_ Mordred thinks to himself with some confusion. _Who is Annie?_

Ramsay takes a deep breath as he nods. “Myranda and I chased Annie until she tripped and Myranda managed to strike her with an arrow.” Ramsay continues. “Then, I let the dogs have her. However, the dogs suddenly stopped eating and ran off. Myranda and I followed the dogs. The dogs led us to a road where there was a girl carrying a babe.” 

Mordred, blinks as he suddenly realizes what this means. His father murdered another girl before he murdered Mordred’s mother. _You are an evil man father,_ Mordred thinks sourly. _A very evil man._

Ramsay, frowns. “It was that one girl who escaped my hunt alive.” Ramsay says. 

Locke, raises a brow. “Really?” Locke asks. “Well, what did you do?” 

Ramsay, smirks at the memory of the chase. “Myranda and I chased her through the forest of course.” Ramsay says. “Myranda, had managed to wound her so the girl was slow. After a while Myranda managed to wound the girl. Before I could set the dogs upon her, the girl told me that the babe was my son. I almost didn’t believe her. However, I agreed to look at the babe closer. After I looked at the babe, I agreed that he was my son.” 

Ramsay then smirks. “However, I almost decided to feed the babe to the hounds anyway.” Ramsay says. “As you know I have no use for a _bastard_ babe. But, oh how the girl begged and begged for the child’s life! She reminded me that kinslaying is an accursed crime. So, I spared him...and then I set the dogs upon the girl. Oh how she screamed. I am certain you would have loved to hear it.” 

Locke, smirks. “I knew you wouldn’t waste good meat.” Locke says. 

Mordred, scowls even more. His soul is burning with hate for these two men. They are referring to his mother as if she was just a hog or another animal. 

Ramsay, smirks. “Yes, the dogs seemed to really enjoy her.” Ramsay says. “Now, Locke, take me to my father. I am late for dinner.” 

Mordred, blinks a few times. So the evil man’s name is Locke then. It doesn’t matter what the man’s name is. He is still evil and Mordred hates him. 

Locke, nods. “Oh yes Lord Snow, this way.” Locke says with a smirk. 

Myranda, soon appears in the hallway. “What are the two of you doing here?” Myranda asks. 

Mordred, scowls again. It is his father’s evil female companion, Myranda. _I hate you as well…,_ Mordred thinks. 

“Oh Locke just asked what really happened to my bastard’s mama.” Ramsay says. “So, I told him.” 

Locke, smirks. “Oh I would have loved to hear the wench scream.” Locke says. “Ramsay, next time you and Myranda go on a hunt, take me with you. I could use some excitement.” 

Ramsay, smirks. “Will do Locke.” Ramsay says. “Now, take me to my father.” 

“Oh yes, follow me.” Locke says. Locke, then leads the way down the hallway, towards the great hall.

* * *

Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, sits at the great big dining table within the great hall. A scrumptious spread has been laid out before him. A steaming roast duck sits on a platter along with some roasted root vegetables. A platter full of pork sausages sits beside the platter of roasted duck and vegetables. Beside the platter of sausages, sits a bowl full of mashed parsnips. Beside the bowl of mashed parsnips, sits a platter full of sliced bread and butter. 

In front of Roose, is a plate full of food. Roose, holds a cup of his usual spiced hot mulled wine. A few feet away, Maester Wolkan, stands silently. Roose, turns to Maester Wolkan. 

“I now must ask how our food stores are.” Roose says. “Tell me Maester Wolkan, how much food do we have in store.” 

“Ah milord, we do have plenty of grain in store.” Maester Wolkan says. “This summer has lasted nearly eight years already. Reports from the Maesters at the Citadel say that there is no evidence that the summer shall end anytime soon. This summer has been very bountiful, milord. If the summer lasts then we shall have plenty of grain when winter does eventually come.” 

Roose, takes a sip of his wine. “Excellent.” Roose says very pleased by Maester Wolkan’s report. 

After a few more moments, Roose, looks around. Beside him is an empty chair with an empty plate and empty cup. Roose, looks around some more. He does not see his bastard son, Ramsay Snow, anywhere. The young man is hardly ever late to dinner. 

“Maester Wolkan,” Roose says with a deathly voice. “Tell me, do you know where Ramsay is? It is unlike him to be late to dinner.” 

Maester Wolkan, gulps a little. “Well Milord, the last I saw him he was getting ready to hunt with Myranda.” Maester Wolkan says. “Perhaps they have run into a little issue. However, I am certain that it is nothing to worry about.”

Roose, blinks a few times. He doubts a little issue would keep his son from coming to dinner. Just then, Roose spots two servant’s scurrying by. The two servants are both young maids. The two servants whisper to each other. However, Roose can hear the conversation very clearly. 

“Have you heard?” Roose hears one of the servant’s whisper to the other. The servant has black hair and blue eyes. “Ramsay Snow has brought a babe to the Dreadfort. Says it is his bastard son!” 

“Yes I have.” The other maid whispers. “I heard it from a washer girl.” 

Roose’s eyes widen slightly. He knows that the servants spread gossip all the time. But this...this is not a rumor he could have ever imagined hearing. 

“You two, come here!” Roose says with a deathly voice. 

The two servants turn towards Roose. They realize that their lord has just heard their conversation. The two servants immediately obey. They know that Lord Bolton is a dangerous man and it is best not to displease him. The two servant women now stand before Roose. 

“Now, I heard the two of talking about my son, Ramsay.” Roose says with a calm yet sinister sounding voice. “Tell me about this ‘rumor’ you have heard.” 

The young maid with black hair, gulps a little. “I heard it from the Scullery maid.” The young woman says with some fear. “She said that your son, Ramsay Snow, returned with Myranda...and a babe. Ramsay said it was his bastard son.” 

Roose, narrows his eyes and turns to the other maid. He is about to say something when the sound of footsteps interrupt him. Roose, turns to see his master at arms, Locke, walking into the room. Locke, bows to his Lord. 

“I apologize for interrupting your dinner Lord Bolton.” Locke says. “However, I have brought you your son, Ramsay. He has something interesting to show you.” 

Roose, turns to see his son, standing off to the side. Ramsay, is holding a small bundle of brown cloth in his hands. Roose, knows instantly what it is. It is an infant. Roose, turns to the two frightened maids. 

“The two of you are dismissed.” Roose says. “Now go.” 

The two maids leave the room in a hurry. Ramsay, takes a deep breath and bows to his father. “Father.” Ramsay says respectfully. Ramsay, sets the little bundle on the table. Ramsay, then pulls out a chair and sits down. Ramsay, then starts filling his plate with food. 

Roose, narrows his eyes. “I didn’t tell you to sit down.” Roose says with a deathly voice. Roose, glances at the bundle. “And why have you set an infant before me?” 

Ramsay, takes a deep breath. He picks up his fork and knife. “He is my bastard son, father.” Ramsay says. “His name is Mordred. Mordred Snow.” 

Without another word, Ramsay, starts eating. Roose, narrows his eyes even more. _So, that one servant girl was telling the truth._ Roose thinks to himself. 

After a few minutes, Roose, glances at the bundle. Roose, sets his cup down and picks up the bundle to have a closer look. Even though his son says the babe is a boy, Roose is going to just make sure Ramsay is not lying. Roose, undoes the wrapping around the infant’s legs. Underneath the diaper, there should be a little bump, which indicates that the child has a penis...and is therefore a boy. Yes, there is a little bump. Ramsay, does not lie. The child is indeed a boy. Roose, holds the bundle up in front of him. The infant contained within the cloth has a little head of black hair. The infant suddenly opens its eyes, revealing ghost grey eyes. Bolton eyes. 

Mordred, blinks as he stares at the blurry face before him. This man must be his grandfather, the Lord Bolton. 

Roose, glances at Ramsay. He can see the similarities between his son and the infant. There is no mistake. The infant is Ramsay’s son. _His_ grandson. But one crucial question remains unanswered. Who is the mother? 

“He does have your eyes.” Roose says. “He is your son, that much I can tell. However, I do have one question. Who is the mother?” 

Roose, spots Myranda, standing nearby. Roose, narrows his eyes. He doesn’t remember the girl having a visible bump lately. However, Roose, shall ask anyway. 

“Is it your bed warmer?” Roose asks while looking at Myranda. 

Myranda, looks away. Of course Lord Bolton would think that. 

Ramsay, blinks as he swallows the bite of food in his mouth. He knows that his father is referring to Myranda. “No father.” Ramsay says, as he pours himself some spice hot mulled wine from a pitcher nearby. “It is not Myranda.”

Ramsay, continues to eat. Roose, narrows his eyes. If it isn’t Myranda, then it must be one of Ramsay’s other bed warmers. “What about your other bed warmers?” Roose asks. “Is it one of them?” 

Ramsay, just blinks. “No father.” Ramsay says with his mouth full of food.

Roose, frowns. His bastard son has always had bad table manners. Roose, blames the boy’s lowborn mother for that. “Well then, who is it?” Roose asks impatiently. “One of my other servant girls?” 

Ramsay, swallows his bite of food. “No.” Ramsay says as he puts more food in his mouth. “The mother was just some Northern bastard girl that I bedded once.” Ramsay, swallows and quickly gulps down some wine. 

Roose, raises a brow. “Was?” Roose asks with some interest. 

Ramsay, looks at his father. He hopes that his father will believe his story about Mordred’s mother. “Myranda and I went out hunting and we came across the girl just walking down the road.” Ramsay says. He quickly eats another bite before he continues. “The girl looked ill. Very ill in fact. She was all pale and she was practically hobbling down the road. When she saw me she just gave me the baby and said that he was my son and that his name was Mordred. I couldn’t deny it when I saw the babe’s eyes. I acknowledged him of course.” 

Roose, raises a brow as he glances at the babe in his hands. “And what happened to the babe’s mother?” Roose asks. “Why did you bring him here?” 

Ramsay, takes another bite of his food. “The girl just collapsed without warning...and died. Myranda and I buried her in the forest.” Ramsay says. He swallows and takes another bite of food. 

_Liar…,_ Mordred thinks. _You let your dogs kill and eat her._

Roose, narrows his eyes, as if he is trying to believe Ramsay’s story. Maester Wolkan just blinks and looks at Ramsay. It is if Maester Wolkan is trying his best to believe Ramsay’s story as well. 

Roose, blinks and looks at the babe in his hands. The babe actually reminds Roose, of his late trueborn son, Domeric. Roose, raises a brow. The baby is also very quiet for a newborn. This is a far cry from Ramsay. Roose, remembers the day Ramsay’s mother brought the boy to be acknowledged by Roose. Ramsay, squalled his head off the entire time. 

Roose, then feels the child’s legs and arms. The lord of the Dreadfort can tell that the infant is very strong and sturdy. Roose, raises a brow. The babe is actually a very fine boy, despite being a bastard. However, only time will tell if the boy has inherited Ramsay’s sadistic streak. 

“So, the mother is dead then?” Roose asks. 

Ramsay, takes another bite of food. “Yes, she is dead.” Ramsay says. “That’s all there is to it!” 

Roose, simply blinks as he watches his son eat. Roose, then glances at his grandson. Roose, can tell that his grandson is very young, probably a newborn. “Just how old is Mordred supposed to be?” Roose asks his son with some interest.

Ramsay, momentarily stops eating as he tries to remember Lena’s words. “The girl said that she had given birth seven days ago.” Ramsay says. “So, no more than a week.” 

Roose, simply blinks a few times. “You also said that she was a bastard girl.” Roose says with a little interest. “I would like to know her name. You did know her name right?” 

Ramsay, just blinks. He knew his father would ask that. “Her name was Lena Snow.” Ramsay says. “She told me that her father was from House Cerwyn.” 

Maester Wolkan, rubs his chin thoughtfully. “House Cerwyn?” Maester Wolkan says. “Hmm, I have heard a rumor about Lord Medger Cerwyn’s younger brother having a bastard daughter...and even though he acknowledged the girl, the man never once tried to ensure her wellbeing.” 

Ramsay, sits back in his chair. “Ah yes, I do remember now.” Ramsay says. “The girl told me that she was born in a brothel next to the Cerwyn’s castle. She told me that her father never gave her mother one coin in order to support her. Not even a copper!” 

Roose, sits back and processes the information just given to him. He has heard stories of Lord Medger’s younger brother, Arric Cerwyn. Arric, has quite the reputation when it comes to women. The man has never been married, and spends a lot of time in brothels. The idea of the man having a bastard child is quite feasible then. 

Maester Wolkan, sighs. “The poor girl though.” Maester Wolkan says. “I wonder what could have killed her.” 

Ramsay, shrugs. “Well she’s dead and that’s all there is to it!” Ramsay says. Ramsay, glances down at his now empty plate. He quickly downs the remainder of his wine. “Anyhow I will be taking my leave.” 

Ramsay, gets up from the table and prepares to walk away. “Ramsay!” Roose says with an edge to his voice. Roose, quickly holds baby Mordred out to his son. “You are forgetting your little bastard.” 

Ramsay, does not respond and starts walking away. Roose, narrows his eyes. “Ramsay!” Roose says a little louder. “Take your bastard with you!” 

Ramsay, pays his father no mind. Ramsay, disappears from the room. Roose, grits his teeth slightly. How dare his son just turn and walk away like that! Roose, looks at the babe in his hands. The Lord of the Dreadfort cannot eat his dinner and hold a baby at the same time. Roose, glances at Maester Wolkan. 

“Maester Wolkan, please take this babe out of my hands.” Roose says with a calm yet deathly tone of voice. “I wish to return to my dinner.” 

Maester Wolkan, quickly nods. “Yes Lord Bolton, of course.” Maester Wolkan says. Maester Wolkan, walks up and quickly takes baby Mordred from Roose’s hands. 

Mordred, shifts slightly within Maester Wolkan’s hands. The hands that are holding him are quite gentle. Mordred, simply stares at the face before him. The face has warm dark eyes. Mordred, actually likes this man. Maester Wolkan, Mordred remembers his grandfather calling the man. 

Maester Wolkan, sadly looks at the baby in his hands. “Poor motherless little thing.” Maester Wolkan says. “And it is a shame your son does not seem concerned about the child’s wellbeing.” 

Roose, just blinks a few times. “Maester Wolkan, do you believe my son’s story regarding the babe’s mother?” Roose asks. “I find it quite strange that an incredibly ill young woman would just be walking down a road...and with a babe in her arms. My son didn’t mention anything about the woman having supplies with her.” 

“I also agree that is very strange, Milord.” Maester Wolkan says. “I can’t imagine a sane woman taking a babe on a trip without some kind of supplies. But perhaps if she was ill enough, she wasn’t thinking very clearly.” 

“I suppose that could be true.” Lord Bolton says after some thinking. He takes a sip of his wine. 

Mordred, whimpers a little. His stomach is gurgling. The last time Lena nursed him was this morning, right before they left the inn. _I’m so hungry…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Within moments, Mordred, lets out a few cries. Roose, looks over towards Maester Wolkan, slightly annoyed by the cries. “Maester Wolkan, please quiet the child.” Roose says. 

Maester Wolkan, immediately starts rocking Mordred, trying to get the boy to stop. Mordred, starts sucking on his fingers. “Lord Bolton, I think I know what the problem is.” Maester Wolkan says. “The child is hungry. He might even be starving for all we know.” 

Locke, snorts a little. “What are Lord Bolton and I supposed to do about it?” Locke asks. “Feeding and caring for babies is a woman’s work.” 

Maester Wolkan, looks down at baby Mordred. “The poor motherless babe needs a wetnurse.” Maester Wolkan says. “The only woman within the castle who has recently had a baby is the cook’s daughter.” 

Lord Bolton, just sips some more of his wine. Hiring a wetnurse for a bastard babe when there is a breastfeeding woman already in the castle is a waste of money. The cook’s daughter shall do as a wetnurse. 

Lord Bolton, looks at Maester Wolkan. “Take the child to the cook’s daughter.” Lord Bolton says to Maester Wolkan. “Have her nurse the child.” 

Maester Wolkan, nods. “There is also the matter of where the child is going to sleep.” Maester Wolkan says. 

Lord Bolton, thinks about this for a minute. The old chamber that is usually used as the nursery for Bolton babies has not been used in many years. Not since his late son Domeric, was a babe. The old wooden cradle that occupies the center of the room hasn’t held a Bolton babe in many years. Even if the babe is a bastard, the child does have Bolton blood running through his veins. Roose, figures that his bastard grandson has the right to sleep within the cradle. Besides, it is easier to just use the cradle than to try and come up with an alternative sleeping arrangement. 

“The Dreadfort’s nursery has been empty for many years.” Roose muses. “Even if the child is a bastard, using the nursery saves us the trouble of finding an alternative sleeping arrangement.” 

“I can send someone to clean it and light a fire to warm it up.” Maester Wolkan says. 

“Do what you need to.” Lord Bolton says. “You are dismissed.” 

Maester Wolkan, bows. “Yes milord.” Maester Wolkan says. Maester Wolkan then leaves the room with baby Mordred in his arms. 

Roose, turns to Locke, who is still standing in the room. “You are dismissed as well.” Roose says. “I wish to eat my dinner in peace.” 

Locke, bows and leaves the room. Roose, quietly returns to his dinner.

* * *

Mara, the Dreadfort’s cook, stirs a pot of soup that has been hung over a fire. Mara, is a middle aged woman with dark gray eyes and soft brown hair that is tied back. Mara, wears a plain pale blue dress and a simple white apron. The woman lives in the Dreadfort with her husband, Aldric, who is the Dreadfort’s stablemaster. The couple’s son, Ron, works in the stables alongside his father as a stableboy. Mara and Aldric’s daughter, Faye, works in the Dreadfort’s kitchen as a kitchen maid. 

Mara, looks to her left. A young woman with black hair and the same dark gray eyes as Mara, walks into the kitchen, with a small bundle in her arms. The young woman is Faye, Mara’s daughter. The bundle that Faye is holding is her two week old daughter, Ailis. Faye, hums gently as she places her sleeping baby in a wicker basket. Faye, then hangs the wicker basket on a pair of ceiling hooks. The basket is now suspended in the air. 

Mara, sighs as she watches her daughter slowly swing the basket. Faye, gave birth to Ailis, almost fourteen days ago. Faye, has been a dutiful mother, but one crucial question remains on everyone’s mind. The identity of the baby’s father is a mystery to everyone at the Dreadfort. The only person who could shed insight into that fact is Faye herself. However, Faye, has not spoken a word to anyone about Ailis’s father, not even her own family. Whenever anyone asks about Ailis’s father, Faye, simply evades the question and tries to change the subject. 

Suddenly, the young scullery maid walks in. Mara, frowns. The girl should have been back a while ago. “Hyssop…,” Mara says with a deathly voice. “Where have you been? There is work to be done!” 

Hyssop, gulps a little. “I am sorry Mara, but there is something that all of you must know.” Hyssop says with an uneasy voice. “Ramsay Snow, brought a babe to the castle. He said it was his bastard son.” 

Faye, stops swinging the basket and gasps. All of the other young kitchen maids gasp and start whispering to each other. However, Mara just frowns, along with the Dreadfort’s baker, Acelyn, and the head scullery maid, Betsey. The young maids spread so much gossip these days. 

“Hyssop, we don’t have time for gossip.” Mara says with a hard voice. “Get to work!” 

“Indeed.” Acelyn says with a hard voice. Acelyn, has light brown hair and light brown eyes. “There is still much work to be done before dinner.” 

“But it is true!” Hyssop says. “I saw it with my own eyes! As did everyone in the courtyard!” 

Mara, frowns again. The sound and tone of Hyssop’s voice is quite convincing. Just then, Maester Wolkan, walks into the kitchen. Mara’s eyes widen instantly. The Dreadfort’s Maester rarely visits the kitchen. This must be serious. 

“Maester Wolkan…,” Mara says with an uneasy voice. “Is everything alright?” 

“I need your daughter’s help.” Maester Wolkan says with some desperation. “I’m afraid that she is the only one that can help.” 

Mara, narrows her eyes. “My daughter?” Mara asks. Then, she suddenly notices that Maester Wolkan is carrying a small bundle of cloth in his arms. The bundle lets out a small cry. It is a baby. 

Hyssop, gasps. “It is Lord Snow’s bastard son!” Hyssop cries. “Yes it is!” 

Mara, Acelyn, Faye and the other kitchen maids gasp. Hyssop, was really telling the truth. Maester Wolkan, beings trying to hush the babe in his arms. “This is Mordred Snow…,” Maester Wolkan says. “He is Ramsay’s bastard son.” 

Maester Wolkan, desperately looks at Faye and Mara. “Ramsay says that the child’s mother is dead.” Maester Wolkan says. “Ramsay told Lord Bolton and I that he and Myranda went out hunting and they just came across the girl walking down the road. The girl looked very ill. She gave Ramsay the babe, telling him that the babe was his son. Ramsay, acknowledged the babe once he saw that the babe had the same eyes as him. Then, the girl just collapsed and died. Ramsay and Myranda, buried her corpse in the forest.” 

Maester Wolkan, glances down at the crying baby. “The babe has been crying off and on like this for a while.” Maester Wolkan says. “I think he may be starving. I have no idea the last time he was nursed.” 

Maester Wolkan, simply watches the server girl leave. He then glances at the hanging basket nearby, and then looks back at Mara and Faye. “Mara, your daughter is the only woman in the castle who is nursing.” Maester Wolkan says with a pleading voice. “She is the only one who can feed the child.” 

Without another word, Faye, walks up and holds out her arms. Maester Wolkan, hands her baby Mordred. Faye, then walks over to a stool by the hearth and unties the top of her dress. Maester Wolkan, like a good gentleman, diverts his eyes. 

Baby Mordred, squirms a little within Faye’s arms. The new arms that are holding him are soft. Mordred, can tell that these arms must belong to a mother, by the way the arms are holding him. However, the woman is different from his mother. Her touch is different. Her voice and even her smell is different. This woman is not his mother. 

Mordred, whimpers as he feels himself being lifted slightly. The sweet smell of milk fills his nostrils. However, instead of nursing, Mordred, turns his head away. Despite his hunger, Mordred, just can’t bring himself to nurse from this strange woman. _She’s not mama…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Mara, clears her throat. “Now Faye, don’t be discouraged if the little lad does not latch on right away.” Mara says. “Orphan babies often get confused when another woman tries to nurse them. However, when babies get hungry enough, they always nurse.” 

Faye, frowns as Mordred, squirms away from her breast. “He isn’t latching.” Faye says. 

_You’re not my mama…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _You’re not my mama._

“Just try again in a little bit, dear.” Acelyn says. “The little lad just needs to get used to you.” 

Faye, sighs and covers her breast back up. Faye, gets up from the stool and carries baby Mordred over to her mother. “Anyhow, we must find something for the little lad to sleep in.” Faye says. Faye, then feels the bottom of Mordred’s swaddling cloths. “And I think he may have a soiled diaper. However, I don’t have enough diapers for two babies.” 

“The little lad needs clothes as well.” Another young kitchen maid says. “And we need to find more blankets.” 

Maester Wolkan sighs. “Lord Bolton told me to put the babe in the old nursery.” Maester Wolkan says. “I must find a chamber maid to clean and light a fire in the hearth.” 

Acelyn, raises a brow. “Lord Bolton is going to put a bastard babe in the Dreadfort nursery?” Acelyn asks with a disbelieving voice. 

“Using the old nursery means that no thought will have to go into finding alternative sleeping arrangements for the babe.” Maester Wolkan says. 

Maester Wolkan, turns to leave. “I will be back later.” Maester Wolkan says. “I have work to do.” 

“Maester Wolkan, I must ask how old Mordred is supposed to be.” Faye suddenly asks. 

Maester Wolkan, turns and looks at Faye and the other servants. “Ramsay said the babe was at least a week old.” Maester Wolkan says. 

Without another word, the Dreadfort’s maester leaves. Faye, Mara, Acelyn, Hyssop and the other kitchen maids are left alone with baby Mordred. 

Betsey, huffs loudly as she returns to her work. “Unbelievable!” Betsey says. “That little bastard gets to sleep in the Bolton nursery, and in the cradle used by legitimate Bolton babes nonetheless. Look at what the babes of the servants get to sleep in. Baskets! What is so special about that bastard babe anyway?!”

Acelyn, glances at baby Mordred. “I also find it strange that Lord Bolton would be so willing to let a Bolton bastard sleep in the nursery used by legitimate Bolton babes.” Acelyn says. 

“Don’t be so disbelieving Acelyn.” Mara suddenly says. Acelyn and the other servants immediately turn to Mara. 

“The babe is a bastard, that is true.” Mara says. She then gestures towards Mordred’s pale eyes. “But the child does have Bolton blood running through his veins. That is enough for Lord Bolton to at least ensure the child’s wellbeing.” 

Mara, takes a deep breath. “The Bolton nursery, is one of the warmest and most sheltered rooms in the castle.” Mara says. “The babe shall be very warm and at the very least, safe from wildling attacks.” 

Mara then looks at her daughter. “I daresay this should also be good for you and your daughter.” Mara says to Faye. “Since you will be nursing the little lad until he is completely weaned, I also imagine Lord Bolton will expect you to attend to all of the babe’s needs. This means you and Ailis will also have to sleep within the nursery so that you can care for the child. You and Ailis will be warm and safe from wildling attacks.” 

Mara, then glances towards the hearth. “When Roose’s trueborn heir, Domeric, was born Lady Bolton was very ill and was unable to produce enough milk, or even care for Domeric.” Mara says. “So, Lord Bolton had the head laundry maid nurse and care for Domeric until Lady Bolton was well enough. The head laundry maid and her young babe actually slept within the nursery until Lady Bolton was well enough to care for Domeric. Lady Bolton, however, was never able to produce enough milk for Domeric, so the head laundry maid had to supplement Domeric’s feedings until he was able to eat solid food.” 

Mara, then glances towards the hearth with the pot of soup for the servants. “And I daresay you shall also be well fed.” Mara says to her daughter. “You shall be entitled to bigger portions of food _and_ even the leftovers from the lord’s meals.” 

Betsey, laughs. “Ha!” Betsey says. “Never in seven hells would I share the lord’s leftovers with anyone!” 

Mara, frowns. Betsey is such a glutton. The uneaten food from the lord’s meals are always free for the servant’s to eat. Lord Bolton can be cruel but he doesn’t believe in wasting good food. It used to be that the food would be divided between the servant’s who needed the extra food the most, such as nursing mothers. However, for as long as she has worked at the Dreadfort, Betsey, has hogged the Lord’s leftovers. Betsey, shares with no one, not even her own children or grandchildren. Betsey, is a very selfish woman and she is rude and mean to the other servants. None of the servant’s within the Dreadfort like Betsey, not even Betsey’s own children or grandchildren. 

Mordred, whimpers some more. The wetness around his bottom is becoming unbearable. _Someone please change me…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Mara, turns her attention from the glutinous scullery maid, to the babe in her daughter’s arms. “Go grab a diaper and change the little lad.” Mara says to her daughter. “After that, try to nurse him again.” 

Faye, sighs and leaves the room. Hyssop, looks at Mara and the other kitchen servants. Hyssop, is internally debating whether she should tell the other kitchen servants about Ramsay’s unusually fat dogs and the fact that Annie is missing. 

“There is something I should tell you about when Lord Ramsay first got back to the Dreadfort.” Hyssop says with a quivering voice. 

“What is it?” Acelyn asks with some curiosity. 

Hyssop gulps a little before she begins. “Lord Ramsay, and his bed warmer Myranda, not only brought the babe back, but also Lord Ramsay’s horrid hounds.” Hyssop says. 

Mara and the other kitchen servants frown. They know all too well about Ramsay’s sadistic games with girls. It is just too coincidental that the bastard goes out hunting and then a servant girl comes up missing. 

“Sounds like the bastard wasn’t just going out ‘hunting’.” Mara says with a dry voice. “Are there any servant girls missing?” 

Hyssop, gulps. “Annie.” Hyssop says. 

Mara and Acelyn just look at one another. Everyone knows how Annie was one of the bastards bed warmers. 

Betsey, just lets out a loud huff from her place by the stone sink. “That is what the girl gets for getting close to that bastard.” Betsey says with an uncaring voice. 

Mara, ignores Betsey’s cruel remark. She turns back to Hyssop. “Do the dogs appear to be ‘fat’?” Mara asks. 

Hyssop just nods in reply. Then, she looks around to make sure no one else is listening to the conversation. “And the thing is…,” Hyssop begins. “I don’t believe the bastard buried the body of the babe’s mother. The dogs are unusually fat. Fatter than they have ever been!” 

Mara and the other kitchen servants gasp when they realize what Hyssop is trying to say. Acelyn, just hangs her head down. “That bastard is something else,” Acelyn says. “Feeding the corpse of his son’s mother to his dogs. That is just sick.” 

Mara, narrows her eyes. She is now starting to doubt the entire story that the bastard told Lord Bolton and Maester Wolkan. Besides, what sane person just decides to go walking down a road while deathly ill? 

_The bastard murdered the babe’s mother…,_ Mara thinks sourly to herself. _He probably stole the babe off of her, killed her and then fed her body to the dogs._

Just then, Faye, comes back into the room with baby Mordred. Faye, looks curiously at her mother and the other kitchen servants. They were discussing something while she was out of earshot. Faye, just knows they were. 

“What were all of you talking about?” Faye asks very sweetly. 

Mara, blinks a few times and tries to smile reassuringly. She won’t burden her daughter with the potential fate of the babe’s mother. “Oh nothing my dear.” Mara says. “Why don’t you try nursing the little lad now?” 

Faye, blinks a few times and walks over to sit by the heart. She unties the top of her blouse, revealing her right breast. Mordred, squirms within his wrappings. The gurgling in his stomach is becoming unbearable. 

_Hungry…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I’m so hungry. I need to eat._

Faye, holds Mordred’s head up to her breast. Without a second thought, Mordred, latches on and begins suckling. 

Acelyn, lets out a laugh. “See, I told ya!” Acelyn says. “Babes always nurse when they are hungry enough.” 

Mordred, suckles furiously. The pains in his stomach are slowly subsiding. _So good…,_ Mordred thinks as he drinks the warm sweet milk. _So good._

Mara, looks at her daughter. “Just sit there and nurse the little lad while the others and I get back to work.” Mara says. “I shall check on little Ailis for you.” 

Mara, walks away, leaving Faye and baby Mordred by the hearth. However, unknown to all in the kitchen, a dark figure stands unseen within a dark doorway. It is Locke. Locke, stares at the sight of Faye nursing and rocking baby Mordred. Locke, then glances at the basket containing baby Ailis. Locke, watches as Mara, takes baby Ailis out of the basket and begins cooing over her. After a few minutes, Locke, silently slips away, unseen by everyone in the kitchen.

* * *

Ramsay, looks on as Myranda, pours a bucket full of hot water into a wash tub with hot water. Ramsay figures that he could use a good ol soak after his day. Ros and Kyra, two of Ramsay’s other bed warmers, walk into the room with more buckets of hot water. 

Ros and Kyra, pour their buckets of water into the wash tub. Ros, is a pretty girl with long dark auburn hair, blue grey eyes, and plump red lips. Kyra, is a pretty girl with shoulder length dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and pink lips. 

Ros, looks at Ramsay. “Is the water hot enough for you Lord Ramsay?” Ros asks with a sweet voice. 

Ramsay, feels the water with his hand. “It is perfect.” Ramsay says with a smirk. Ramsay, quickly undresses and steps into the tub. He sighs as he sits down in the warm water. “Ah, there is nothing like a good ol soak.” 

Ramsay, looks up at Myranda, who has an unreadable look on her face. Ramsay, frowns. Myranda, has been acting strange ever since the two of them returned to the Dreadfort. Ramsay, turns to Ros and Kyra. “You two, leave!” Ramsay orders. “I need to talk to Myranda in private.” 

Ros and Kyra quickly leave the room without a word. Ramsay, looks at Myranda. Myranda, looks away. 

“Something is troubling you.” Ramsay says with an amused voice. “Tell me, why are you acting so sour.” 

Myranda, slowly turns to Ramsay. “You fathered a child with that nobody bastard wench.” Myranda says. “A son nonetheless.” 

Ramsay, scoffs a little at Myranda’s words. “The girl meant nothing to me.” Ramsay says. “It is true that the boy is my son, but he is just a bastard. I can assure you, he means nothing to me.” 

“Then why did you let him live?!” Myranda asks. “Why didn’t you just feed him to your dogs?!” 

Ramsay, just blinks. “He is my son.” Ramsay says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Kinslaying is an accursed crime afterall.” 

Myranda, narrows her eyes. “No one would have had to know.” Myranda says. “I would have kept it a secret.” 

“The gods would have known.” Ramsay says.

Myranda, just looks at Ramsay. “There is another reason you let the child live.” Myranda says with a knowing voice. “You can’t lie to me.” 

Ramsay, looks at Myranda. “Well, the child is strong and healthy...and more importantly...it is a boy.” Ramsay says. “I suppose I thought that if my father saw that I could indeed father a strong and healthy son, then he would reconsider my position.” 

Myranda, narrows her eyes even more. “So, that is why you let the child live?” Myranda asks. “Because you want recognition from Lord Bolton and to be made his heir?” 

Ramsay, slowly nods as he takes in Myranda’s words. “Well...yes.” Ramsay says. “There is nothing more that I want than to be the heir to House Bolton.” 

Myranda, looks away as she takes in Ramsay’s words. “You promised that you would marry me.” Myranda says with a dry voice. “I could give you sons...and they would be _legitimate_.” 

Ramsay, frowns. His promise to marry her was just bed talk. Ramsay has no real intentions of fulfilling that promise. However, he better not let Myranda know that. She would probably try to leave him if she knew that. 

“Now Myranda...are you actually jealous of my little bastard?” Ramsay asks with some amusement. 

Myranda, grits her teeth. “I’m not jealous of the little brat…,” Myranda says. “It’s just...I’m jealous of the fact that you bedded another girl, got her pregnant, and she gave you a son.”

Myranda, clears her throat. “I’m not jealous of the little bastard...I hate him!” Myranda says with some anger. “He will forever be proof that you bedded another girl.” 

Ramsay, scoffs a little. “As I said before...that wench meant nothing to me neither does the little bastard.” Ramsay says. “However, he is my son, which means he could prove to be useful in the future. If the boy pleases my father, then my father may make me legitimate. Therefore, I would become heir to House Bolton.” 

Myranda, then thinks of something. “Ramsay, what if your father legitimizes both you and the little bastard?” Myranda asks with a dry voice. 

Ramsay, just sits in the tub and blinks. “Well then, Mordred and I would both become Bolton’s.” Ramsay says. 

Myranda, takes a deep breath. “If that was to happen, would he be your heir?” Myranda asks. “If you and I married, and I gave you sons, who would actually stand to inherit the Dreadfort after you die. Our trueborn sons...or that little bastard.” 

Ramsay, thinks about this for a minute. “Well, Mordred, would be my oldest so naturally he would inherit the Dreadfort.” Ramsay says. 

Myranda, clenches her fists. “It’s bad enough that you had a son with another girl, but now any trueborn sons I give you will lose their rights to the bastard!” Myranda says. 

Myranda, then blinks as another thought enters her mind. “Ramsay, what if the little bastard _steals_ your position?” Myranda asks. 

Ramsay, narrows his eyes. “Whatever do you mean by that?” Ramsay asks. “How could the boy possibly _steal_ my position?” 

Myranda, blinks and walks up to the wash tub. She has his attention now. “You keep saying that Lord Bolton, may reconsider your position if the little bastard pleases him.” Myranda says. “However, have you considered the possibility that your father could pass _you_ over for heir in favor of the little bastard?” 

Ramsay’s eyes widen as Myranda continues. “Lord Bolton, could always decide that your little bastard is more worthy to be future Lord Bolton than you.” Myranda says. “He could always legitimize the little bastard and yet leave _you_ as a bastard.” 

Ramsay, gulps a little as he tries to imagine this. “That would mean _you_ would still bear the title of ‘bastard of the Dreadfort’, while the little bastard gains the title of ‘heir of the Dreadfort’.” Myranda says. “After Lord Bolton dies, the little bastard will inherit everything while _you_ are left with nothing!” 

Ramsay, blinks as he tries to comprehend Myranda’s words. Would his father really legitimize Mordred, yet leave him as a bastard? Would his Lord father really pass him over as heir in favor of Mordred? Could he really lose his position as heir of the Dreadfort to his bastard son? Ramsay, quickly shakes his head. No, there is no way his father would do that. _Right?_


	5. Settling in

Maester Wolkan, looks around the room. The old Dreadfort nursery is cold, dark and very stuffy. The candles lit all around the room are the only light in the old room. However, even with the candlelight, the room is still dark and uninviting. The Dreadfort’s maester and a young chambermaid have been in this room for a while, trying to make it habitable. The two of them have made significant progress, but there is still so much to be done. The stone floors have been swept and scrubbed down with a damp rag. The glass windows have been wiped down with cloth rags dipped in vinegar and water. The bed covers have been shaken free of dust. However, the furniture within the room still needs to be dusted off. 

Maester Wolkan, blinks as he dusts off the mantle over the main hearth. Dust flies and makes Maester Wolkan’s nose twitch slightly, but he does not sneeze. The Dreadfort nursery is unique in the fact that it has two hearths. The main hearth, is located in the center of a wall and spans at least half of the wall. Next to the main hearth, is a small alcove in the wall, which holds a wooden box at the bottom. The wooden box is used to hold wood for both of the hearths. However, the wood box is currently empty. The old wooden box has not been filled with firewood for many years. Not since Lord Bolton’s late son Domeric, was a babe.

The Dreadfort’s maester simply blinks as he looks at the empty wood box. The only thing that will help the cold within the room is to light a fire.  _ We need to fill the wood box and light fires in the hearths…, _ Maester Wolkan thinks as he slowly makes a mental list of what needs to be done in order to make the room habitable. 

Maester Wolkan then glances at the wooden cradle that lies a little ways from the main hearth. It has been many years since a babe has slept in that cradle. The cradle has been used by many generations of Bolton babies. Domeric, slept in that cradle. Lord Bolton himself once slept in the cradle. Even Lord Bolton’s father and grandfather slept in that cradle. Maester Wolkan, looks at the empty cradle. The Dreadfort’s maester knows that Mordred won’t be able to sleep within the cradle if no cushioning is added to the bottom of the cradle. However, Maester Wolkan shall wait until he brings Faye and Mordred in. Mara, will probably come with Faye in order to help her settle in. Mara, will know what needs to be added to the cradle. 

Nearby, a young chambermaid with brown hair and brown eyes, dusts off a wooden table along with a chair. The chair is for a wetnurse to sit in and do activities such as sewing, knitting and basket weaving. The table is where a wetnurse eats her meals. 

Dust flies off of the table, causing the chambermaid to sneeze loudly. “My goodness!” The chambermaid says with some annoyance. “The furniture in here is all completely covered with dust!” 

“I thought that would be the case.” Maester Wolkan says as he continues to dust off the furniture. “No one has been in this room for many years. Not since Domeric Bolton was a babe.” 

Maester Wolkan, dusts off a wooden chest. The chest holds baby things such as linen diapers and blankets. Another chest sits at the foot of a nearby bed, which is for the wetnurse to place her clothing. As Maester Wolkan finishes dusting off the table and chair, he looks towards the hearth.  _ Fires must be lit before Faye, Mordred and Ailis can sleep in here, _ Maester Wolkan thinks to himself.

Maester Wolkan, sets down the rag and turns to the chambermaid. “I must fetch wood for the hearths.” Maester Wolkan says. “I will be back soon.” 

Maester Wolkan, leaves the room without another word. He walks down a narrow stone passageway. Torches hang on the walls, providing light in the dark passageway. Maester Wolkan, walks until he reaches an opening leading to a wooden platform outside. Maester Wolkan, walks onto the platform and slowly starts descending the wooden steps, until he reaches the ground. He now stands within the Dreadfort’s courtyard. 

The stone walls of the castle look even more fearsome and foreboding in the darkness and moonlight. The whitish light from the moon illuminates the walls and courtyard. The only other light comes from torches placed on the stone walls. Maester Wolkan, can even hear a wolf howling in the forest outside. At the top of the guard towers, Guards chat and stand guard. In the courtyard, servants scurry about, trying to get last minute chores done. Maester Wolkan, starts making his way past the scurrying servants towards the woodhouse. As Maester Wolkan approaches the entrance to the woodhouse he can hear the sound of an axe splitting wood. Somebody is chopping wood right now. Maester Wolkan, reaches the wide open door. There is a young man inside the woodhouse, chopping wood with an axe. Maester Wolkan, immediately recognizes the man as a young guard named Gavyn. 

Gavyn, is a young man just a few years older than Ramsay. Gavyn, is the elder son of the Dreadfort’s blacksmith. Gavyn, is a handsome young man with black hair and light brown eyes. Gavyn, is also a lean yet strong and muscular young man. Gavyn, stops chopping the wood when he sees Maester Wolkan standing in the doorway. Gavyn, looks at the maester with his blue eyes. 

“Maester Wolkan.” Gavyn says respectfully as he addresses the Dreadfort’s maester. “What can I do for you?” 

“I have come for wood…,” Maester Wolkan says. “However, I don’t think that I can carry it all. I could use some help.” 

Gavyn, sets down his axe. “If you need help carrying wood, then I will help you.” Gavyn says. He walks over to a few very old willow baskets that are sitting by the stacks of wood against the wall. “And let me show you a little trick that I learned.” 

Gavyn, grabs a basket and fills it with wood. Gavyn, picks up the basket. “There!” Gavyn says. “By using a basket one can easily carry wood without having his or her arms full.” 

Maester Wolkan, smiles and grabs his own basket. “That is very clever indeed.” Maester Wolkan says. The maester starts filling his basket with wood. 

Gavyn, narrows his eyes at the amount of wood Maester Wolkan is putting into his basket. Gavyn, looks at his own basket. “This is a lot of wood…,” Gavyn says. “Which room needs all this wood?” 

Maester Wolkan, looks at Gavyn. “Follow me…,” Maester Wolkan says. “And you shall find out.” 

Without another word, Maester Wolkan, leads the way out the wood house and towards the wooden steps and the platform. Once at the top, Maester Wolkan, leads Gavyn through the doorway and down the hallway. The two men arrive at the nursery door. Inside, the chambermaid is still dusting off the furniture. Gavyn, looks confusedly at the room. 

“This is the nursery.” Gavyn says. “Only Bolton babies sleep in here. There are  _ no _ Bolton babies within the castle.” 

Maester Wolkan sighs. “Not by name at least…,” Maester Wolkan says. “Only by blood.” 

Gavyn’s eyes widen in realization. “Ramsay Snow’s little bastard?” Gavyn says with a questioning voice. “The Lord Bolton is going to put a Bolton bastard in the nursery?” 

“It is a simple solution that saves Lord Bolton the trouble of finding different sleeping arrangements for the little lad.” Maester Wolkan says. 

Maester Wolkan and Gavyn, watch as the chambermaid gathers the covers off of the bed. Dust flies, causing the chambermaid to sneeze multiple times. “Goodness!” The chambermaid says between her sneezes. “Even the bedcovers are covered with dust! I must go shake these off immediately.” 

Maester Wolkan and Gavyn, silently watch the chambermaid walk out of the room. Maester Wolkan, sets his basket down. He points to the woodbox. “Place your wood in the woodbox.” Maester Wolkan says to Gavyn. “Faye, shall need wood during the night.” 

Gavyn, narrows his eyes with some confusion. “Faye?” Gavyn asks as he starts stacking wood in the woodbox. “The cook’s daughter?” 

Maester Wolkan sighs. He simply starts placing wood into the main hearth. “Since Ramsay’s son is motherless, Faye, shall be nursing and caring for the little lad. Faye and her babe shall be sleeping in here as well until Mordred is fully weaned and cannot fit in the cradle.” 

Gavyn, blinks a few times. “Really? Lord Bolton is allowing that?” Gavyn asks. 

“Faye, is the only woman within the Dreadfort who is nursing...and her babe still needs her as well.” Maester Wolkan says. 

Maester Wolkan, quickly finishes placing wood in the main hearth. He moves onto the small corner hearth on the far side of the room. The small corner hearth helps to keep the occupant of the bed warm at night. Even during summer years, nights in the north can get pretty cold. 

After he is done placing wood within the small hearth, Maester Wolkan, looks over at the wood box, which Gavyn just finished filling.  _ Faye will need more wood than that…, _ Maester Wolkan thinks to himself.  _ We should also fill the cauldron by the fire with water. It would probably be good for the babe to have a bath. _

At the base of the hearth, sits a black metal cauldron. Water is placed in the cauldron and left to sit by the fire to warm up. Then, the water is simply added to a wooden washtub when it is time for babes to be given baths. 

Just then, the chambermaid, returns with the now dust free bed covers. The chambermaid quickly places the covers onto the bed and begins to neatly prepare the bed. 

Maester Wolkan, looks at Gavyn. “Go fetch more wood.” Maester Wolkan says to Gavyn. “Faye, shall need more wood than that. While you do that, I must go fetch some water so the little lad can have a bath.” 

Gavyn, nods. “I will be right back with more.” Gavyn says. Gavyn, leaves the room. 

Maester Wolkan, then turns to the chambermaid. “After you finish preparing the bed, please go fetch Faye and little Mordred for me.” Maester Wolkan says. 

The chambermaid nods as she continues to prepare the bed. “Yes, of course Maester Wolkan.” The chambermaid says very politely. 

Maester Wolkan, hten walks over to a torch hanging on a nearby wall. He picks up the torch and carries it over to the hearth. Maester Wolkan, holds the torch to a piece of wood within the hearth. The piece of wood starts smoking and soon catches fire. Maester Wolkan does the same with the wood in the small hearth. Soon enough, small fires are burning in both hearths. The fires burn slowly, giving off light and heat. 

Maester Wolkan sighs as he puts the torch back in its place. Time to go fetch water. The Dreadfort’s maester silently leaves the room, leaving the chambermaid to finish her work. After a few minutes, the chambermaid looks at the now finished bed with a look of satisfaction. She looks around at the now dust free room. She smiles to herself, satisfied with the work she and Maester Wolkan have done. Without a word, the chambermaid leaves the room. The nursery is now empty. 

Once the chambermaid is out of sight, a shadowy figure emerges from a dark part of the hallway. It is Myranda. Myranda, scowls as she turns towards the open nursery. With a few silent footsteps, Myranda, enters the prepared nursery. Myranda, looks at everything within the room with contempt and hatred. After a few moments Myranda lets out a loud huff. 

_ All this for a bastard babe…, _ Myranda thinks sourly to herself.  _ This is just ridiculous. _

After a few more minutes of standing within the nursery, Myranda leaves and returns to the dark part of the hallway. She shall spy some more and then inform Ramsay of this development. 

* * *

The great hall of the Dreadfort buzzes with activity, as servants scurry about, trying to get a seat at the table. The servants all eat together in the great hall after the Lord Bolton has eaten his meals. 

The servant’s all talk pleasantly as they eat. A washer girl frowns when she realizes that four familiar faces are missing from the table this evening. The washer girl turns to another washer girl. 

“Have you seen Mara and her family?” The first washer girl asks the second washer girl. 

The second washer girl, just huffs. “Oh Mara and her family are eating in the kitchen.” She says. “Didn’t ya hear? Faye, is going to be the wetnurse for Ramsay Snow’s little bastard!” 

The eyes of the first washer girl widen immediately. “No, I did not!” She says with a surprised voice. “Oh, poor Faye, having to nurse the bastard of Ramsay Snow.” 

The kitchen maids, just frown at the statement. “Just so you know, Faye, does not mind nursing the little lad.” A kitchen maid says. “The little lad is actually quite adorable.” 

Many other servants just laugh. “Really?!” A guard asks. “The bastard son of Lord Snow is  _ adorable _ ?” 

“It is true!” Another kitchen maid says. “The little lad has such a sweet little face. He is also so sweet.” 

Another guard laughs. “Really?!” The guard says through his laughs. “ _ Sweet _ ?” 

A washer woman lets out a loud huff. “And just think, when the babe grows up, we may have another Ramsay Snow terrorizing us all!” 

A washer girl gasps. “That is a terrible thought indeed!” The washer girl says. 

The kitchen maids just can’t believe what they are hearing. These servants and guards are actually  _ condemning _ an innocent babe. All because his  _ father _ is an evil psychopath. 

* * *

Faye, hums gently as she sits in front of the hearth. She holds Mordred in her arms. At the table, Mara, eats dinner with Ron and Aldric. Usually the family would eat with the other servants in the great hall. However, Mara, decided that it would be best if Faye and Mordred stayed out of the way of the other servants while they bond. 

Faye, hums slowly as she rocks baby Mordred in her arms. Mordred, coos softly. He has decided that his ‘foster mother’ is not all that bad. She isn’t exactly like his mother, but she is a lot like Lena.  _ Her touch and voice is a lot like mama’s. _ Mordred thinks to himself. 

While Faye, will never replace Lena, Mordred knows in his heart that he must move on. His mother is dead and she is never coming back.

Mordred, yawns and blinks within his wrappings. Mara, looks up from her food and smiles. “See…,” Mara says. “The child just had to get used to your touch is all.” 

Aldric, grunts as he looks up. Aldric is a muscular man with graying black hair, and dark brown eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening.” Aldric says with a slightly bitter voice. “My daughter has a baby, and then less than two weeks later, she has another thrust upon her.” 

Ron, looks up from his food. Ron, is a very meek young boy. He has small dark brown eyes and unruly brown hair. “Are you really not going to be sleeping with us anymore?” Ron asks. 

“It is just temporary, Ron.” Faye says reassuringly. “Once Mordred is big enough to sleep on his own, Ailis and I will return to sleeping with you, mother and father.” 

Ron, frowns and looks sadly down at his food. “Will I ever be able to see you before that?” Ron asks. 

Faye, lets out a small laugh. “Ron, I’m just moving to another room for a while!” Faye says. “I am not leaving the castle. Even if I don’t sleep with the three of you, you can still see me. You can do stuff to help me. You can bring wood and water into the nursery for me. You can bring me my meals. Don’t worry Ron, you can still see me.” 

Just then, a chambermaid walks into the kitchen. “Maester Wolkan sent me.” The chambermaid says. “The nursery is almost ready.” 

Mara, nods. “Alright then.” Mara says. “First, I must gather Faye’s things.” 

Mordred, blinks within his wrappings. He also likes Mara’s voice. Mara’s voice also reminds him of his mother’s voice. Just older and wiser sounding. 

Mara, leaves the kitchen. The chambermaid slowly approaches Faye. “I have not had the chance to look at the little lad yet.” The chambermaid says. “Can I see him?” 

Faye, nods and shifts the bundle in her arms so that the chambermaid can see Mordred’s face. The chambermaid gasps when she sees Mordred’s pale eyes. 

“Aye, the child does have Bolton blood that much I can see.” The chambermaid says. Then, her eyes narrow and her voice suddenly becomes nervous. “And he does look so much like his father. Who knows what the child could grow up to be.” 

Faye, blinks as she realizes what the chambermaid is trying to say. Mordred, could in fact grow up to be just like Ramsay, in looks and in  _ character _ . Faye, looks down at the babe in her arms. Mordred, stares right back at her. It is true that the babe has Ramsay’s eyes. However, there is something in those pale eyes that Ramsay  _ does not _ have. Innocence. 

Mordred, whimpers a little. It is obvious that the strange woman talking to Faye, is convinced that he will be just like his father.  _ No! _ Mordred thinks.  _ I will not be like that horrible man.  _ Just thinking of Ramsay makes Mordred think of his mother and what happened to her. 

Faye, rocks Mordred as he whimpers some more. “I think you hurt the little lad’s feelings.” Faye says. “Besides, he is just a babe. A sweet and adorable babe. His eyes are so full of innocence.” 

The chambermaid huffs “Wait until he grows up!” The chambermaid says. “He won’t be so full of innocence once his bastard father starts influencing him. And how could I hurt his feelings? He doesn’t understand anything we are saying.” 

Mordred, just blinks within his wrappings. _ I understand your words…., _ Mordred thinks.  _ I understand everything that people around me say. You just don’t know it. _

Faye, looks down at Mordred again. Aside from the innocence there is also something else in Mordred’s eyes.  _ Intelligence _ . 

“Mordred is actually very smart for a babe.” Faye says. “Whenever I say something about him, he just gives me this look. It’s like he knows that I am talking about him.” 

The chambermaid just raises a brow. She then sighs. “I am telling you Faye, that child is going to be a menace when he grows up.” The chambermaid says. “Just you wait!” 

Mordred, whimpers some more. Faye, tries to console him. Just then, Mara, walks into the kitchen. Mara, is carrying a basket full of folded dresses and linen undergarments. Mara, looks at Faye and the chambermaid. Mara, hands the chambermaid the basket. “Take this.” Mara says. “I must get Ailis.” 

Faye watches as her mother gently takes the basket off of the ceiling hooks. Ailis, fusses a little but she doesn’t cry. Mara, nods to the chambermaid who in turn starts walking towards the doorway. Faye and Mara, follow the chambermaid out into the hall. The servants at the table just look up and start whispering. Faye, pays the other servants no mind. She simply follows her mother and the chambermaid. Once outside, Faye, takes a deep breath and holds Mordred closer to her. The night air is quite chilly, especially for a babe. Ailis, fusses within her basket as the cold night air touches her cheeks. Mara, tries to soothe her granddaughter. Faye, sighs and looks around. She wonders what the nursery is going to be like. 

* * *

Maester Wolkan, nods as Faye, Mara, and the chambermaid step into the nursery. “I hope you find your new accommodations to be exceptional.” Maester Wolkan says. 

Faye, looks around at everything in the room. “It is a nice room.” Faye admits. 

Maester Wolkan, turns to the chambermaid. “Please go fetch a washtub.” Maester Wolkan says. 

The chambermaid nods stiffly. “Yes, Maester Wolkan.” The chambermaid says. She quickly leaves the room. 

Maester Wolkan, then points to a couple of metal hooks hanging from a wooden beam in the ceiling. Mara, immediately understands and carries Ailis’s basket over to the hooks. Mara, carefully places the hooks through little handles in the basket. The basket is now suspended from the ceiling. Ailis, coos softly as the basket swings lightly in the air. 

Faye, looks at the empty cradle. “The cradle needs cushioning added.” Faye says. “Is there a chest with baby things?” 

Maester Wolkan, points to the chest off to the side. “Right there is where you shall find everything else you need.” Maester Wolkan says. 

Mara, walks over and carefully opens the chest. She takes out a couple of fur blankets and some linens. “Blankets...linen wraps...and diapers.” Mara says as she takes out what she needs. 

Mara, walks over to the bed and sets everything out. Mara, picks up a bundle tied together with string. Mara, unties the bundle to reveal a long piece of linen and a long piece of wooly sheepskin. Mara, places the linen down in the cradle along with the sheepskin. It is a perfect fit. “Ah, here is what goes into the bottom of the cradle.” Mara says. She then frowns when she presses down. “But...it still feels a little hard. We must be missing something.” 

Maester Wolkan, thinks for a few moments before the answer finally comes to him. “Straw!” Maester Wolkan says. “I remember now. First, we place good clean straw in the bottom of the cradle. Then, we place the linen on top of that. The sheep skin goes on last.” 

“I shall go get some straw.” Mara says. She leaves the room.

Faye, sets Mordred down on the bed. Mordred, fusses. His bottom feels wet again.  _ Somebody please change me…, _ Mordred thinks. 

Faye, then unwraps Mordred’s legs and abdomen. Faye, then begins unwrapping the white linen wrapped around Mordred’s tiny bottom. A diaper is just a thin piece of rectangular cloth with a large backing, which covers the baby’s buttocks. Attacked to this piece of cloth are long flaps which wrap around the baby’s bottom and waist. This keeps the diaper in place. An absorbent material such as dried moss or cattail fluff is lined on the rectangular part of the diaper to absorb urine and protect the cloth from feces. Nobles in the Southern regions use cattail fluff. Nobles in the North use moss, because it is plentiful, even in winter. All a person has to do is remove the soiled moss and then just place more moss on the cloth. However, if there is so much urine or feces that the moss fails to absorb it all, then the cloth must be changed. 

Faye, gets the diaper fully unwrapped. The moss lining Mordred’s diaper is completely soaked. Even the cloth linen is soaked. Faye, grabs a new diaper. However, she realizes something. There is no moss to place in the diaper. Faye, sighs. Just one more thing they have to gather. Right now, it is time to just focus on bathing the child. The chambermaid returns with a small wooden washtub. The chambermaid places the washtub on the table, and Maester Wolkan quickly fills it with warm water. Faye, gently carries the now naked Mordred, over to the washtub. Faye, then gently lowers Mordred into the water, making sure to hold his head up with one hand. Mordred, fusses and cries at the feeling of the water being splashed on his skin. However, at the same time, the warm water is soothing. After a few minutes, Faye, lifts Mordred out of the wooden tub. Mordred, is then wrapped in thin linen towels. Faye, hums and sits down in the chair. The chair has been placed at one end of the wide hearth. Just then, Mara, returns with a bucket full of sweet smelling golden straw. Faye, turns to her mother. 

“Mother, we need moss for the diaper.” Faye says calmly. 

Before Mara can say anything, Acelyn, walks through the door. She carries a bucket full of dried moss. “The children just collected moss this morning.” Acelyn says. “It is completely dry now.” 

Faye, sighs. “Oh good.” Faye says. “I need to put a new diaper on Mordred.” 

Faye, then gets up and walks over to the bed. She lays out a diaper and places some dried moss on it. Faye, then places Mordred’s bottom on the cloth and begins wrapping Mordred’s bottom. Once the diaper is in place, she starts wrapping Mordred back up in his swaddling blankets. 

Nearby, Mara places the straw at the bottom of the cradle and evenly spreads it out. Once the straw is in an even layer, Mara, places the piece of rectangular linen on top, followed by the sheepskin. Faye, quickly wraps Mordred in a fur blanket, and carries him over to the cradle. Faye, gently places the little bundle on top of the sheepskin. Mordred, yawns as he slowly starts to drift off into a deep slumber. Nearby, Ailis, starts fussing within her basket. Faye, quietly walks over and lifts her baby out of the basket. Ailis, scrunches up her little face and starts sucking on her fingers. She’s hungry. Faye, walks back over to the chair and slowly unties the top of her blouse. 

Maester Wolkan, quickly clears his throat. “I shall be leaving now.” Maester Wolkan says. The Dreadfort;s maester, quickly leaves the room. 

Mara, Faye, and Acelyn are left alone with baby Mordred and baby Ailis. However, the three women soon realize that they and the babies are not completely alone. 

“Such a nice room for a little bastard.” A voice says full of contempt. 

Faye, Mara, and Acelyn look towards the doorway. It is Myranda. Acelyn, frowns intently. None of the other servants inside the castle like Myranda. She is just like Ramsay. 

“What are you doing in here?” Acelyn asks with an angry voice. “Who told ya you could come in here?” 

Myranda, does not respond. She simply pushes past Acelyn, to look inside the cradle. Myranda, frowns at the sight of Mordred, sleeping soundly in his cozy new cradle. 

“A bastard does not deserve to sleep in the Bolton cradle.” Myranda says through gritted teeth. 

Mordred, whimpers when he recognizes Myranda’s voice. He can feel Myranda’s hateful eyes staring at him.  _ Somebody please make this evil woman go away…, _ Mordred thinks. 

Myranda, grits her teeth even more. She seethes with rage as she looks directly at Mordred. “You are just a little bastard.” Myranda says. “I hate you and I could care less if you died!” 

Mara, Acelyn and Faye all gasp with horror. Mordred, starts crying his lungs out. Ailis, starts crying moments later.

“Look at what you did!” Mara says. “You made him cry!” 

“I don’t care!” Myranda says. “I just wish the little bastard would disappear.” 

Without another word, Myranda, leaves the room. Mara, picks Mordred up and begins trying to soothe him. After a few moments, Mordred, finally settles down. Even Ailis settles down. Ailis, returns to nursing from her mother’s breast.

Acelyn, grimaces as she looks towards the doorway. “We best keep our eyes on her.” Acelyn says. “I wouldn’t put it past her to try and murder the little lad. You know how much she adores Ramsay and how she wants to marry him one day. This babe must be an  _ insult _ to her.” 

“I know.” Mara says with a sigh. “There is no telling what she might do if left alone with the babe.” 

Mara, places Mordred back in the cradle. Just then, one of the kitchen maids, Bliss, walks in with a wooden tray. Bliss, is a young maid about Faye’s age. Bliss, has pretty blonde hair and blue eyes. Bliss, has a sly smile on her face. 

“I brought Faye some food...and I have a surprise for her.” Bliss says. 

Bliss, sets the tray of food down on the table. Acelyn, looks at the tray and gasps. Besides there being a bowl of soup and a regular slice of unbuttered bread, there is a slice of buttered bread. It is from the meal Mara and the other cooks made for Lord Bolton. 

Bliss, smiles when the three women look at her with wide eyes. “The other kitchen maids and I managed to swipe some of the Lord’s leftovers without Betsey noticing.” Bliss says. “There is some diced sausage and duck in the bottom of the bowl.” 

Faye, just looks at Bliss. “How?” Faye asks. “Betsey, guards those leftovers fiercely. How did you and the others manage such a feat?” 

“Oh, it just took some patience and cunning is all.” Bliss says. “Whenever Betsey looked away for a second, the other kitchen girls and I swiped whatever food we could. I diced the sausage and duck, placed the meat in the bottom of the bowl, and then poured soup over it so Betsey, wouldn’t notice. I hid the buttered bread until I was out of the kitchen.” 

Mara, looks at the food. “I fear this is what we will have to do to ensure Faye is well fed.” Mara says. “She needs extra food now that she is nursing two babes.” 

Faye, looks down at Ailis. Ailis, has been nursing for a little while now. It shouldn’t be long before Ailis is finished. Then, Faye, can finally settle down and have dinner. 

* * *

Ramsay, simply sits on his bed as he listens closely to everything that Myranda is telling him. 

Myranda, paces around the room as she speaks. “Your little bastard sleeps within the Dreadfort’s nursery right now.” Myranda says. “And he lies within the Bolton cradle as we speak!” 

Ramsay, looks at the fire in the hearth. This can’t be true.  _ Right? _ Ramsay, looks at Myranda. 

“Are you absolutely certain?” Ramsay asks. 

Myranda, faces Ramsay. “Now, why would I lie to you?” Myranda asks. 

Ramsay, gulps quickly. “Of course you wouldn’t lie to me.” Ramsay says admittingly. “I just don’t understand this. My father is actually letting my little bastard sleep in the nursery used by legitimate Bolton babies? Why would he do that?” 

Myranda, looks at Ramsay. “What do you think the reason is?” 

Ramsay, gulps as he looks at the fire again. When he first came to the Dreadfort as a child, he expected to be placed in Domeric’s old bedchamber. Much to Ramsay’s confusion and ire, he was placed in a dark bedchamber, on the far side of the tower where the Lord’s family sleeps. Why does his little bastard get to sleep in a  _ better _ bedchamber than him? 

“Face it Ramsay,” Myranda says. “Your father actually sees more potential in your little bastard as heir than you. Your little bastard gets to sleep in a cozy little nursery, while you have a dark and dingy bedchamber. Your little bastard even gets to sleep in the cradle used by legitimate Bolton babes!” 

Ramsay, visibly shakes as he stares at the fire. What if the little bastard truly steals his position? What if his father does decide to make Mordred his heir instead of him? 

Ramsay, clenches his hands into fists. Maybe he should have just let his hounds eat the boy.

* * *

Roose, sits in his solar. He thinks of the day he has had. First thing this morning, he had to deal with a dispute between a couple of his guards. Then, right after breakfast, he had to hold court for a hysterical group of peasants, all claiming that they saw a huge river serpent swimming up the weeping waters. The Lord Bolton simply dismissed their claims and sent them away. Then, right after his midday meal, he had to travel south of the Weeping waters to deal with some shepherds, all claiming that a mysterious beast was killing their sheep. All that could be found were some abnormally large wolf tracks. After that, Lord Bolton, rode home and settled down to speak with Maester Wolkan about the Dreadfort’s finances and food stores. The last thing the Lord of the Dreadfort expected was for his bastard son to bring him a bastard  _ grandson _ . Now, he is a grandfather. 

Roose, sips some hot mulled wine from a silver goblet.  _ Grandfather. _ The word sounds so alien to him. The cold and cruel lord of the Dreadfort never thought he would live to see grandchildren. A long time ago, he used to think that Domeric would succeed him as lord of the Dreadfort. Roose, always believed that he would die and then Domeric, would then become lord of the Dreadfort. Domeric would then get married and have children to carry on the Bolton name. However, Domeric, unexpectedly died, leaving Roose with only Ramsay as an heir. Roose, then believed that he would legitimize Ramsay on his deathbed, and then Ramsay would become lord of the Dreadfort. Ramsay, would then find a suitable bride and continue the family line. 

Roose, sips some more wine. When he first looked at his grandson, he knew that deep down the child was indeed a Bolton by blood. Just looking at the babe reminded Roose of the day he first laid eyes on Ramsay. 

_ A much younger Roose, stands inside the great hall of the Dreadfort. A pretty young peasant woman with black hair and blue-grey eyes, stands before him. The woman, holds a crying infant in her arms. The woman, sheds tears as two guards grab her arms.  _

_ “He is your son!” The woman says hysterically. “He has your eyes! Please!”  _

_ The much younger Roose, simply looks at her. “You dare come here and try to pin that little bastard on me?” Roose says with a sinister voice. “I should have you whipped for this.”  _

_ The woman whimpers. Roose, looks at the guards. “Take this woman out into the courtyard...and give her 100 lashes.” Roose says with a deathly voice. He then looks at the squalling bundle of cloth in the woman’s arms. “Throw the child into the weeping waters.”  _

_ The woman lets out a horrified scream. “I tell the truth! Just look at him!” The woman cries. “Please Lord Bolton!”  _

_ Despite the guards holding her arms, the woman manages to extend her arms just enough for Roose to see the babe’s face clearly. The babe opens it’s watery eyes. Roose, pales a little. The babe, has pale ghost-grey eyes. His eyes. Bolton eyes. The child...is his son. _

Roose, sips more of his wine as the memory starts fading. The minute he saw Ramsay, he knew the babe was his son. Mordred, looks just like Ramsay as a babe. That is how Roose, realized that Mordred, was indeed Ramsay’s son. 

Roose, looks out the window at the pale moonlight illuminating the castle outside. Roose, is quite annoyed with Ramsay for bringing Mordred to him and then just leaving the babe for Roose to deal with. It is obvious that Ramsay is uninterested in his bastard son’s welfare. However, Roose, knows that due to Ramsay’s unsavory character, he would make a poor excuse for a father. Perhaps it is for the best that Ramsay is uninterested in Mordred’s upbringing. 

Roose, blinks when he thinks of something else. The day Ramsay was brought before him, Roose, could see something in his eyes. Now that Roose is really starting to think about it, he realizes that it was probably a precursor to what Ramsay would become.  _ Madness. _ However, Roose, now realizes something else. When he looked at Mordred, he saw something else.  _ Intelligence _ . There was no hint of madness in the child’s eyes at all. Who knows, perhaps Mordred could turn out to be a better Lord Bolton than Ramsay. However, it is still too early to tell. But...there is a possibility. 

* * *

_ Mordred, looks around at the forest surrounding him. How did he get here? The last thing he remembers is falling asleep in his cradle. Then, Mordred, spots a strange looking tree ahead of him. Curious, Mordred, slowly walks up to it. The trunk of the tree is white in color. Strange red sap oozes out of the tree trunk. The leaves on the branches are blood red. Mordred, narrows his eyes. He has never seen a tree like this before. In a way, the tree looks like a regular oak tree, just with white bark and red leaves. Then, as Mordred looks closer, he realizes something. Carved into the trunk of the tree, is a strange looking face. Below the carving, lies a small pool of water. Mordred, walks over and looks at his reflection. He is an adult. Perhaps this is a dream then.  _

_ “Mordred…,” A mysterious voice suddenly rings out.  _

_ Mordred, turns around and faces a strange looking woman. The woman has silky smooth black hair and bright unearthly green eyes. The woman also has silky smooth white skin and smooth red lips. The woman is wearing a long sleeved white dress. Mordred, eyes the woman with suspicion. The woman has an unusual aura surrounding her.  _

_ “Who are you?” Mordred aks with some suspicion. “How did I get here?”  _

_ “I have no name.” The strange woman says. “However, my fellow divinities simply call me ‘Lady Life and rebirth’. I oversee the cycle of life and death in all of Westeros. I am also responsible for deciding which souls should be reborn.”  _

_ Mordred’s eyes widen. It is starting to sound like the strange woman is a goddess. That would explain the unearthly glow.  _

_ Lady Life and Rebirth, simply looks Mordred in the eyes. “This is a dream Mordred.” Lady Life and Rebirth says. “I have entered your subconscious in order to deliver an important message.”  _

_ Suddenly, it hits Mordred. The strange voice that told him to walk through the doorway after he died in Camelot. The strange voice that he and Lena heard right after his birth. It was all Lady Life and Rebirth doing.  _

_ “You are the one who urged me to walk through that doorway after I died.” Mordred says with realization. “You also spoke to my mother and told her my name. Why?”  _

_ Lady Life and Rebirth just smiles. “Yes.” She says with a calm voice. “Let’s just say that you were reborn for a reason, Mordred. You have a role to play in this world.”  _

_ Mordred, narrows his eyes. “A role to play?” Mordred asks with a curious voice. “What do you mean by that?”  _

_ “The answer will become clear in time.” Lady Life and Rebirth says. “For now, you must grow up and become strong. You will need all the strength you can get in order to face what is eventually to come.”  _

_ Before Mordred can ask Lady Life and Rebirth what she is talking about, the dream slowly fades. _

Mordred, wakes up. He is still wrapped snugly in blankets. He stirs a little. His stomach lets out a low rumble. Mordred, scrunches up his face.  _ Hungry…, _ Mordred thinks.  _ I am so hungry. _

Without a second thought, Mordred, lets out a few small cries. A few minutes later, Faye, comes to the cradle and picks Mordred up. Faye, slowly rocks Mordred in her arms and sits in the chair. She unties her blouse and holds Mordred up to her breast. Mordred, latches on and begins suckling. 

As Mordred suckles he thinks back to his dream. What did Lady Life and Rebirth had said that he needed to become strong in order to ‘face what is eventually to come’. What did she mean by that? What is coming? Why was he reborn? What is his role in this world? 

_ Lady Life and Rebirth also said that the answer would become clear with time…, _ Mordred thinks to himself.  _ I suppose that when I start growing, the answers to all my questions will be answered. _

Faye, rocks Mordred slightly as he nurses. “There, good boy.” Faye says gently. 

Mordred, coos slightly at Faye’s soft words and gentle touch. For now, he is just going to enjoy being fussed over by a mother figure.


	6. As time goes by

Faye, sets the bundled Mordred down on the bed. Ailis, is already laying on the bed. It has been two months since Mordred was brought to the Dreadfort. Faye, has found that taking care of two babies is not all that it is cracked up to be. She wonders just how mothers with twins manage such a feat. Her days are filled with diaper changes, feedings, baths, and rocking and singing. However, due to Faye’s persistence and devotion, she has discovered a system that works. Mordred, is usually the first to cry for a feeding so Faye nurses him first. Then, Ailis is fed right after. Diaper changing is actually very simple. Faye, just lays Mordred and Ailis side by side on the bed. Then, Faye can change them both at the same time. 

Nearby, Mara and Bliss, are getting things ready for Faye. Mara, is stacking wood in the main hearth. Bliss, is filling the black cauldron with good clean well water. 

Faye, swiftly unwraps Mordred. She does the same with Ailis. The two babies now lie stark naked on the bed. Faye, then quickly unwraps Ailis’s diaper. The moss underneath Ailis’s tiny bottom is completely soaked through. Faye, then unwraps Mordred’s diaper. The moss underneath Mordred’s tiny bottom is completely soaked as well. 

“Aye, the two of you really soaked your moss through.” Faye says. “Something tells me I should place extra moss in your diapers.” 

Mara, hands Faye a bucket of moss. “Here is more moss my dear.” Mara says. 

Faye, smiles and takes the bucket from Mara. Bliss, then hands Faye a damp rag. Faye, cleans Mordred’s tiny bottom thoroughly. Faye, then cleans Ailis’s bottom with the rag. Faye, then begins placing moss in the diapers. Faye, then swiftly wraps up Mordred’s tiny bottom. She does the same with Ailis. Faye, smiles with satisfaction. Mara and Bliss, just smile as the two babes coo sweetly on the bed. 

“They are so sweet.” Bliss says. “Mordred, is especially sweet.” 

Faye, sighs sadly. “I just wish everyone in the castle would see that.” Faye says. 

Mara and Bliss both share a sad look. The two women know exactly what Faye is referring to. Many people in the castle want nothing to do with Mordred. Many servants have actually been cold to Faye ever since she became Mordred’s wetnurse. Many servants won’t talk to Faye anymore. Many refuse to even help around the nursery. People refuse to bring Faye food, water and firewood. The only ones willing to help Faye are Mara, Aldric, Ron, the kitchen servants(except Betsey), Maester Wolkan, The blacksmith’s family, and the head laundress’s family.

However, even though the servants are divided over Mordred, every single servant within the castle can _agree_ on one thing. 

Ramsay, does _not_ appear to care about his bastard son, at all. 

Ramsay, hasn’t seen or held his son since the child arrived at the Dreadfort. Ramsay, just spends his days hunting, terrorizing the servants, and having sex with his bed warmers. Ramsay, hasn’t even asked anyone about how the child is doing. Ramsay, just seems to not care about Mordred’s welfare at all. 

Lord Bolton, on the other hand, does frequently ask how Mordred is doing. Unlike his son, the lord of the Dreadfort, has seen Mordred a few times since the babe arrived. At least the child’s grandfather is trying to ensure his welfare. 

Mara and Bliss just look at one another again. They can’t stay long. They must get Lord Bolton’s breakfast ready. 

“I am sorry Faye, but Bliss and I must get going now.” Mara says. “Lord Bolton’s breakfast won’t cook itself you know.” 

Faye, just smiles. “I know.” Faye says. “Thank you for bringing me water and wood.”

Mara and Bliss, leave the nursery. Faye, sighs to herself. At least she isn’t taking care of two babies completely on her own. At least some people are willing to help her. 

* * *

Faye, smiles as she places Mordred and Ailis, side by side on the bed. It is now midday. It is time for the babies to receive another diaper change. Faye, swiftly unwraps Mordred. She does the same with Ailis. The two babies are now lying stark naked on the bed. Faye, then quickly unwraps Ailis’s diaper. The moss underneath Ailis’s tiny bottom is completely covered with poop. Even the linen diaper has traces of poop on it. Faye, then unwraps Mordred’s diaper. The moss underneath Mordred’s tiny bottom is completely covered with poop as well. And just like Ailis’s diaper, there is poop on Mordred’s linen diaper as well. Faye, lets out a sigh. 

“Aye, you both need new diapers.” Faye says. “Next time I shall place _extra_ moss in your diapers.” 

Mordred, lets out a cheeky little smile and giggles. Faye, just smiles. Even though people may think she is insane for thinking this, she is absolutely certain that Mordred can understand what she is saying. He responds to her words and seems to understand when she is referring to him. Aside from all of that, Faye, has also noticed something else. Mordred, is _a lot_ more active than Ailis, who is one week older. Mordred, is already moving his head and actively trying to move around. He can even grasp objects with his little hands. He even appears to be trying to roll over. Ailis, who is older, isn’t doing much of that. The baby girl is simply content to just lie around and sleep. Mordred, is actually starting to babble as well. He can already form sounds such as ahh and baa. 

Mordred, giggles and moves. “Ahh!” Mordred babbles. “Ahh...baa.” He very nearly rolls over. Faye, laughs. 

“You are certainly an active little one.” Faye says with a wide smile. “Already trying to roll over. Such a clever little lad!” 

Faye, tickles Mordred’s belly. He giggles and grabs her finger. Faye, laughs as she pulls her finger away. Faye, then removes the soiled moss from underneath Mordred’s bottom. Faye, places the soiled moss into a wooden bucket, which shall be emptied later. Faye, quickly does the same with Ailis. Then, Faye, walks over to the cauldron and dampens a rag. Faye, walks back over to the bed and starts cleaning Mordred’s bottom. She does the same with Ailis. 

Faye, smiles with satisfaction when she is done. “There!” Faye says. “Both of your bottoms are squeaky clean and ready for clean moss and diapers.” 

Faye, walks over to the bucket of moss. However, she immediately realizes something. She only has enough moss to fill _one_ diaper. Faye, simply walks over to sit by the fire. She just feels like crying. Theoretically, Faye should have _more than enough_ moss for Ailis and Mordred’s diapers. Moss, is _super_ abundant around the Dreadfort. However, with two babes in need of moss for diapers, always keeping a ready supply of dried moss is a chore in itself. The moss must be gathered on a daily basis, sometimes multiple times a day. Usually, the job of gathering moss for baby diapers, is left up to children. However, Mara and the other kitchen maids have noticed something very disturbing. Ever since Mordred arrived at the Dreadfort, most of the Dreadfort’s children have _ceased_ gathering moss. 

Faye, looks sadly at the fire. She has a theory as to what is happening. Parents are _discouraging_ their children from gathering the moss for her. Most of the servants within the Dreadfort just don’t want to help Faye. 

Mordred, can sense his foster mother’s change in mood. He has a feeling of what is wrong. She has run out of moss or there isn’t enough for both him and Ailis. Mordred, knows that many of the other servants are being mean to her, all because she is taking care of him. 

_Please don’t be sad Faye…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _It’s not your fault the other servants have decided to be mean to you._

Faye, puts her head in her hands. Aside from the moss, wood and water must also be brought to the nursery on a daily basis. Fires must be lit at night to keep Faye and the babies warm. Water must be kept by the hearth in order to bathe Mordred and Ailis, and clean their tiny bottoms when they soil their diapers. Many of the servants actually refuse to bring Faye firewood and water. There was one night that Faye woke up to find the fires out and the room very cold. Upon examining the hearths, she found the wood wet and tiny puddles of water on the stone underneath. The only logical explanation for this was that _somebody_ snuck into the nursery while Faye was sleeping, and poured water on the fires. Luckily for Faye and the babies, it is summer. If it had been winter, Faye and the babies probably would have frozen to death during the night. Of course, Lord Bolton was very angry that such good wood had been wasted, but he didn’t blame Faye for what happened. Besides the water in the hearths, it was also found that the door into the nursery was ajar. It was fairly obvious that someone had snuck inside while Faye was asleep, and carried out the deed. However, it is still a mystery as to who exactly did it. 

There was even a night that Faye was getting ready to bathe Mordred and Ailis, and she left the room for a minute to grab a couple of linen towels. When she returned, the door was ajar, but nothing seemed amiss at first. However, when Faye got ready to bathe Mordred, she quickly realized that someone had chucked the bathwater out the window, and replaced it with scummy river water. Again, it is a mystery as to who did that. It just seems that some of the servants are _intentionally_ making Faye’s daily tasks difficult. 

Faye, sighs as her stomach rumbles loudly. Aside from the coldness from the other servants, and the disruptions to her daily tasks, there is another problem that she is currently facing. A lack of food. For a time after Mordred’s arrival, Faye, was well fed. Her mother and the other kitchen servants managed to sneak her some of the Lord’s leftovers without Betsey noticing. However, Betsey eventually caught onto what Mara and the other kitchen servants were doing. Betsey, now guards the leftovers with intense ferocity, meaning that the kitchen servants cannot acquire leftovers for Faye. To make matters even worse, Betsey now seems to be going out of her way to make sure Faye _starves_. 

For breakfast each morning, the servants have a basic oat porridge with a little bit of boiled egg or meat. During summer years, the porridge may be flavored with a little bit of fruit such as apples that are starting to wrinkle. Then, the midday meal is just a slice of bread with a thick soup poured over it. The soup is usually made of cold hardy beans, peas, root vegetables, and a little bit of salt pork. Then, dinner is the same kind of soup, more bread, and a little hard cheese. Then, of course there are the leftovers from the Lord’s meals. After every meal, the last scrapings from the pot are dished out to those who need second helpings, such as nursing mothers. After Mordred’s arrival to the Dreadfort, Mara, made sure to give Faye the last scrapings from the pot after every meal. However, Betsey, now appears to be stuffing herself even more, just so Faye does not get any second helpings. 

Faye, blinks as she looks back at the bed, where Mordred and Ailis are lying. The cold treatment from the other servants, and the lack of food is not Faye’s only concern. Faye and the other kitchen servants were always worried that Myranda would try to do something to Mordred. Their fears came true about two weeks after the child’s arrival. 

One day, Mordred and Ailis had both settled down for their late morning naps. Faye, took the opportunity to fetch some more yarn so she could knit while the babies slept. The task only took Faye five minutes at the most. Faye returned, only to discover Mordred face down in the cradle, and not moving. Faye’s scream was heard all the way outside the Dreadfort. Faye, was relieved that when she turned Mordred over, he started screaming his lungs out. The way Mordred was positioned in the cradle, suggests that _someone_ turned the baby over so that he would be face down, and would subsequently suffocate as a result. Again, the door was ajar, meaning someone had come in after Faye left. People pointed fingers but no one confessed. Faye, and the other kitchen staff however, know deep down it was Myranda. 

Faye, looks up when the door to the nursery opens. It is Gavyn’s eleven year old sister, Missy. Missy, is a sweet girl with long black hair and big blue eyes. The only servants who actually try to help Faye are her family, the kitchen servants, Maester Wolkan, Gavyn and his family and the head laundry woman and her family. 

Missy, holds up a bucket of moss. “This moss was just gathered and dried this morning.” Missy says. “Mara, told me to bring it up to you.” 

Faye, manages to smile. “Thank you.” Faye says. “I actually need it right now.” 

Faye, gets up from her chair and takes the bucket from Missy. Faye, then sets the bucket next to the bed and fetches some new linen diapers. Faye, quickly starts laying moss within a diaper. Faye, then wraps Mordred’s tiny bottom up. She does the same with Ailis. Both babies now have clean and fresh new diapers. Faye, starts wrapping the babies up within their blankets. 

“It’s almost time for the midday meal.” Missy says. “Your mother should be bringing you food very soon.” 

Faye, smiles as she places Ailis back in her basket. Faye, then picks up Mordred and carries him over to the cradle. “Thank you Missy.” Faye says. “I just need to nurse the babies and I will be ready to eat.” 

Mordred, fusses within his wrappings. His tiny belly is starting to rumble with hunger. _Hungry…,_ Mordred thinks. He starts sucking on his fingers.

Faye, notices Mordred’s cues and quickly uncovers her breast. Mordred, latches on quickly and begins to nurse. A minute or so later, Mara, arrives with a tray of food. The smell of the food makes Faye’s stomach ache with hunger. Faye, tries to not show her hunger too much. She doesn’t want her mother to notice and start worrying. 

Mara, places the tray by the fire to keep warm while Faye nurses Mordred. Mara, smiles pleasantly at her daughter. However, Mara, soon frowns when she notices something is off with her daughter. Faye...is starting to look a little gaunt and pale. 

“Darling, is everything alright?” Mara asks with some concern. “You are starting to look a little weak and pale.” 

Faye, shakes her head. “I’m alright, mother.” Faye says. “I just need something to eat is all.” 

Faye, then grimaces as she looks down at Mordred. Mordred, is suckling really hard now. Mara, notices immediately and rushes over. 

“Faye, what is it?” Mara asks. “What is wrong?” 

Faye, grimaces even more. “Mordred is suckling really hard.” Faye says. “He has never suckled like this. I just don’t understand it.” 

Mordred, suckles furiously. One minute, he was happily drinking milk. Then, it was suddenly gone. _Hungry…,_ Mordred thinks as he continues to suckle furiously. _I'm so hungry._

Mara, feels Faye’s breast and frowns. “Aye, it appears the little lad emptied your breast.” Mara says. “Just try the other one.” 

Faye, uncovers her other breast and immediately moves Mordred over so that he can nurse from it. Mordred, latches on and begins suckling. All seems well for a few minutes. However, Mordred, begins suckling really hard again. Mara, immediately takes Mordred off of the breast and gently begins feeling the breast. Mara, gasps and covers her mouth with one hand. Faye’s eyes tear up when she realizes what this means. Her milk is drying up. 

Faye, bursts out crying. Mara’s eyes immediately light up with fire. “Betsey, has taken this too far!” Mara says with an angry voice. “It’s bad enough that my daughter is beginning to starve, but now she cannot produce milk.” 

Mara, turns to Missy, who is still in the room. Mara, places Mordred, back in the cradle. “Missy, make sure Faye eats.” Mara says with some authority. “I need to go have a serious talk with Betsey.” 

Missy, gulps. She doesn’t like Betsey anymore than the other servants. One time when Missy was very little, she tried to swipe some of the Lord’s leftovers, but was caught by Betsey. Betsey, slapped poor Missy so hard, the little girl’s lip split. Missy and her family still remember that incident very well. 

“Be careful Mara.” Missy says with a scared voice. “Betsey can be very mean.” 

“I know that.” Mara says. “However, I cannot just stand by and let my daughter, granddaughter and little Mordred starve. I must do something about this.” 

Without another Word, Mara, walks out of the nursery. She walks quickly and with purpose. Within a few minutes, Mara, is standing inside the kitchen. Mara, frowns intensely when her eyes land on Betsey. Betsey, is currently stuffing her face with food leftover from Lord Bolton’s midday meal. Betsey, just seems to be getting fatter and _greedier_ each day. Mara, simply walks up until she is just a few feet away from where Betsey is standing. Betsey, raises a brow as Mara stares her down. 

“Would you please stop staring at me?” Betsey says with an annoyed voice. “You are making me uncomfortable.” 

Mara, feels like screaming at the nasty old scullery maid. “Betsey, you are taking this too far!” Mara says. “My poor daughter is getting so weak and pale. The amount of food she is currently eating is not enough. Why, Faye tried to nurse little Mordred, and the little lad could barely get any milk. My daughter’s milk is drying up, and it is all your fault!” 

All of the other kitchen maids gasp. Betsey, just huffs. “Well, maybe your daughter would have enough milk if she wasn’t nursing Ramsay Snow’s little bastard!” Betsey says with an uncaring voice. “It is her fault if she is running out of milk.” 

Mara, grits her teeth. Never before has she been so angry. “Betsey, Faye was doing just fine nursing both Ailis and Mordred until you stopped us from giving her extra sustenance.” Mara says with a deathly voice. “Without Faye’s milk, both Ailis and Mordred will _starve_ to death.” 

Betsey, huffs again. “I don’t care what happens to that little bastard.” Betsey says. “If he starves to death then so be it. In fact, I don’t care what happens to your daughter, or your little bastard granddaughter either. I am not sharing these leftovers with anyone.” 

Mara, gasps with shock and horror. The other kitchen servants gasp as well. Betsey, is so cold hearted. 

Mara, is on the verge of tears when a familiar voice catches her attention. All of the kitchen servants look towards the doorway. It is Maester Wolkan. Mara, sighs with some relief. Surely Maester Wolkan can convince Betsey, to at least let Faye have more food. Betsey, wouldn’t dare be disrespectful to a Maester. _Right?_

Maester Wolkan, walks into the kitchen and looks at the platters and bowls. Maester Wolkan, looks at Betsey who is standing over the food. Betsey, simply looks at the Dreadfort’s maester with an unemotional look. Mara, looks desperately at the wise maester. 

“Oh Maester Wolkan, thank goodness you are here!” Mara says. “Betsey, is hogging all of the leftovers from the Lord’s meal.” 

Maester Wolkan, narrows his eyes. “But it is my understanding that the leftovers are for all the servants.” Maester Wolkan says. 

“Ever since Betsey has worked in the castle, she has hogged the Lord’s leftovers.” Acelyn says. “She doesn’t share the leftovers with anyone! She selfishly stuffs her face while the rest of us only get porridge, soup, and bread. Why, she won’t even share the food with her own children or grandchildren!” 

“Even if the children beg for just one bite, she screams at them and makes them cry.” Bliss says. “She even slaps them if they even try to sneak a bite!” 

Maester Wolkan, narrows his eyes even more. “She does what?” Maester Wolkan says asks with a surprised tone of voice. 

Betsey huffs. “So what if I do?” Betsey asks. “I don’t share these leftovers with anyone.” 

Mara, looks desperately at Maester Wolkan. “Betsey won’t even let us give Faye any of the leftovers.” Mara says. “For a while, the other kitchen servants and I managed to sneak some of the leftovers to Faye. However, Betsey, caught onto what we were doing and she started guarding the leftovers. Ever since then, none of us have been able to sneak food up to Faye.” 

“Betsey even eats what is left in the pot after every meal.” Bliss says with an angry voice. “None of us, not even Faye can get any second helpings.” 

Maester Wolkan, just blinks. “How much is Faye eating every day?” Maester Wolkan asks curiously. 

Mara’s eyes tear up. “For breakfast, she gets one bowl of porridge and just a piece of meat.” Mara says. “For the midday meal, just one bowl of soup and a slice of bread. For dinner it is the same thing and just a small slice of cheese.” 

Maester Wolkan’s eyes widen. “Are you telling me that Betsey is causing Faye to _starve_?” 

“Yes!” Mara cries out with despair. “My poor daughter is getting so weak and pale. Why, she just tried to nurse Mordred, a little bit ago, and the little lad could barely get any milk. Faye’s milk is drying up and it is all Betsey’s fault!” 

Betsey, lets out a cruel laugh. “I don’t care if Faye or those little bastards starve to death.” Betsey says. “These leftovers are _mine_. I don’t share these leftovers with anyone.” 

Maester Wolkan’s eyes widen at Betsey’s cruel words. Betsey, huffs as she looks at the maester. “I wouldn’t even share this food with a maester.” Betsey says. “Seven hells to any maester who even asks for these leftovers!”

Maester Wolkan gasps. Mara, and the other kitchen maids gasp with horror. Did Betsey just say that? 

Maester Wolkan sighs. Only one person can solve this problem. The maester quickly walks out the doorway. He walks until he reaches the great hall. Lord Bolton, is sitting comfortably in a chair. He is currently reading a message on a piece of parchment. Maester Wolkan, quietly walks up. Lord Bolton, turns to him. The Dreadfort’s maester recognizes the sigil on the parchment. It is from House Stark. It must be tax time.

“Milord, I have come to bring a problem to your attention.” Maester Wolkan says respectfully. 

Lord Bolton just looks at Maester Wolkan. “What is it?” Lord Bolton asks impatiently. 

“Faye, Mordred’s wetnurse, is not getting enough to eat.” Maester Wolkan says. “In fact, her milk is drying up.” 

Lord Bolton, raises a brow. “Why doesn’t she eat more then.” Lord Bolton asks. “She should be eating the leftovers from the meals that I am served.” 

“That is the problem, milord.” Maester Wolkan says. “It was just brought to my attention that the old scullery maid has claimed your leftovers as her _own_ . She won’t _share_ with anyone. In fact, she is eating so much that Faye and the other servants can’t even get any second helpings of porridge or soup.” 

Lord Bolton, narrows his eyes. “You’re saying that the scullery maid is stuffing herself while my grandson’s wetnurse _starves_?” 

“Yes.” Maester Wolkan says. “In fact the scullery maid said that she doesn’t care if Faye, her child, or Mordred starve to death!” 

Lord Bolton, raises a brow. “Is that so?” Lord Bolton asks. 

Maester Wolkan, nods his head respectfully. “Yes milord.” Maester Wolkan says with a respectful tone of voice. 

Lord Bolton, closes his eyes. He figures he should address this problem. “Bring me the old scullery maid.” Lord Bolton says with a deathly tone of voice. “Afterwards, I need to discuss finances with you. Lord Stark shall be here in a fortnight to collect his taxes.” 

Maester Wolkan bows respectfully. “Yes milord, at once.” Maester Wolkan says. The Dreadfort’s maester walks out of the room. 

When Maester Wolkan returns, Betsey is stuffing her face with the leftovers from the bowls and platters. Mara, and the other kitchen maids just look at the scene with obvious disgust. Maester Wolkan, clears his throat. 

“Betsey, Lord Bolton wishes to see you.” Maester Wolkan says simply. 

Mara and the kitchen maids gasp. Betsey’s eyes widen immediately. “Lord Bolton wishes to see me?” Betsey asks with a scared voice. 

Maester Wolkan nods his head. Betsey gulps and slowly follows the Dreadfort’s maester out the doorway. The old fat scullery maids steps are heavy as she walks. Once Betsey is out of the kitchen, Acelyn turns to Mara. There is still some food left on the platters and bowls. 

“Quick! Get some food for Faye while that nasty old witch is gone.” Acelyn says. 

Mara, does not speak. She simply grabs a tray while the other kitchen maids grab wooden plates and bowls. Mara, has a feeling that things are going to change in the kitchen for the better now. 

* * *

Mara, happily scoops up some porridge into a wooden bowl. It has been two weeks since Lord Bolton found out about Betsey’s gluttony. According to Maester Wolkan, Lord Bolton seemed quite disgusted when he saw just how _fat_ Betsey was. Lord Bolton then summoned the other kitchen servants so he could hear what they had to say about the fat old scullery maid. Mara, and the other kitchen maids subsequently let it all out. They told their lord all about Betsey’s selfish ways and how much food she was actually eating. After that, Lord Bolton, pretty much told Betsey that Faye and the other servants had as much right to the leftovers from his meals as she did. If Betsey was going to be selfish and hog it all then she would only get a little bit. Lord Bolton then declared that Mara, could give Faye as much of the leftovers as she thought Faye could eat. Lord Bolton, further added that Faye, would be the first to get the last scrapings from the porridge and soup pots. 

Mara, then walks over to the platters of leftover food from the Lord’s breakfast. She takes a piece of bacon and a soft boiled egg along with a slice of bread with butter and blackberry preserves. Mara, then grabs a few slices of apple. The leftover slices of cheese are set back for the next meal, but the slices of bacon, the soft boiled eggs, and sliced fruit won’t keep so they are fair game. Lord Bolton insists on fresh hot bread during every meal, so the leftover bread is fair game as well. 

Nearby, Betsey, sulks by the stone sink. The old Scullery maid watches with contempt as Mara, heads out the doorway, tray in hand. The other kitchen servants just snicker behind Betsey’s back. 

Mara, heads outside and walks through the courtyard. The morning air is quite chilly and damp. She quickly heads up the wooden steps towards the hallway leading to the nursery. Inside the nursery, Faye sits by the fire. Faye, is happily knitting with some gray wool. 

On a fur rug in the middle of the room, Mordred and Ailis, are laying on their bellies. Now that both babies are able to hold their heads up, it is time that they worked on building strength in their arms and legs. Mordred, turns his head when he hears Mara enter the room. Mordred, smiles and extends his tiny hand towards Mara. Mordred, can see clearly now. He can even recognize the different faces that he sees each day. 

_Hello Mara,_ Mordred thinks. _Good, you brought Faye breakfast._

“Eee…ahh,” Mordred babbles. “Gaa...ahh...baa...ahh...baa.” 

Faye, smiles as Mara, sets the tray of food on the table. She then glances at the smiling Mordred. A lot of people would probably think she is insane for thinking this, but it seems like Mordred, is already trying to communicate. He babbles whenever anyone enters the room. It is almost as if he is saying ‘hello’ to them. 

Mara, smiles when she sees Faye. Faye, no longer looks gaunt or pale. Faye’s eyes are bright and cheerful. Her cheeks have returned to their rosy red color. She gets up from the chair and goes to sit at the table. Faye, eagerly digs into her hearty breakfast. 

“I saw Lord Bolton counting his money this morning.” Mara says. “I heard Lord Stark is coming to collect his taxes today.” 

_Grandfather must hate paying his taxes…,_ Mordred thinks sarcastically to himself. 

Mordred, babbles on the rug. “Gaa...ahh...baa...ahh,” Mordred babbles. 

Faye, just blinks a few times. She has also noticed that when anyone speaks, Mordred starts babbling. It’s as if Mordred is trying to join in on the conversation. The little lad is one clever baby, that is for sure.

Mara, glances at the rug, and the babbling Mordred. “Aye, the little lad is already starting to babble I see.” Mara says. 

_It’s all I can do._ Mordred thinks as he stares up at Mara’s face. _I just wish that I could talk._

“Eee...ahh...baa...baa,” Mordred babbles. “Eee...ahh...baa...gaa.” 

“He has been doing that for a while.” Faye says. “He babbles whenever I or someone else speaks. It’s as if he is already trying to speak his mind.” 

_Laying around is so boring…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I hate being unable to talk or walk. I just wish I could do something._

“Baa…,” Mordred babbles. “Ahh...ahh…gaa.”

Even though Mordred likes being fussed over, there are drawbacks to being a baby. He can’t speak his mind, or walk. All he can do is move around and babble, which is very frustrating. However, he knows that his time to walk and speak will come. He just needs to build up his vocal cords and muscles. Which is why he is constantly babbling and moving around. 

“I have also been noticing other things.” Faye says. “Mordred, is always focusing on whatever is in front of him. He responds to my voice and to his own name. Whenever he is awake he is constantly moving. I have already been telling him stories. He just stares intently at me whenever I tell the stories. He even giggles when I reach funny parts. He even babbles when I pause. It’s like he understands what I am saying.” 

Mordred, blinks. He likes Faye’s stories. He especially likes the tales of old kings and heroes. _I love stories…,_ Mordred thinks. _They give me something new to think about._

“Eee...baa...gaa.” Mordred babbles. “Eee...ahh...ahh...baa.” 

Mara, looks between Ailis and Mordred. “Say, are Ailis and Mordred even attempting to roll over?” Mara asks. “They should be trying to do that very soon.” 

“Ailis, just started trying to.” Faye says. “Mordred, however, has been trying to roll over for a while. Ever since he arrived at the Dreadfort in fact.” 

Mara’s eyes widen. “Truly?” Mara asks. 

Faye, simply nods. On the rug, Mordred, blinks a few times. He has thought about rolling over. He moves yet it doesn’t happen. Maybe he should try harder. Mordred, moves his legs and arms. 

_Roll over…,_ Mordred thinks. _Roll over!_

Mordred, lets out a kick as he finally moves to his side. He lets out another kick. Mordred, feels himself move. He plops onto his back. He is now staring up at the ceiling. He did it. He rolled over!

Both Mara and Faye gasp. “Can you believe that!” Mara exclaims. “We talked about the little lad rolling over, and he rolled over!”

“I told you he was clever.” Faye says. 

Mordred, feels so proud of himself. He actually accomplished something. But now, he wants to accomplish even more. What if he was to roll back onto his stomach?

Mordred, begins kicking again. _Move…,_ Mordred thinks. _Move! Roll over!_

Mordred, manages to kick himself back onto his side. He kicks a few more times. He faces plants right into the fur rug. Mordred, lifts his head up triumphantly. He did it!

Mara and Faye both again. “I can’t believe it!” Mara exclaims. “The little lad actually rolled back onto his belly. Babes can’t do that until they are at least five moons old. Incredible!” 

“He is a very clever and strong little lad.” Faye says. “Should we tell Lord Bolton about this?” 

“Aye, Lord Bolton will be very surprised yet pleased with this development.” Mara says. 

* * *

Roose, holds a bag of money in his hands. Lord Stark should be here anytime. Right now, he is holding court in the great hall. He is listening to some peasants lament about their troubles. 

“Lord Bolton…,” A farmer says as he addresses the Lord of the Dreadfort. “The rabbit population has increased dramatically in my fields and I don’t understand why. They keep eating what I plant. They gnaw and gnaw on the grass until there’s none left for my sheep.” 

The farmer holds up a simple snare made of string. It looks as if it has been gnawed through. “My son and I have set many snares to catch them, but the rabbits have figured out how to gnaw through the string. Neither my son or I are fast enough to catch em by hand either. I don’t know what to do!” 

Roose, rubs his chin thoughtfully. He has heard many reports of the rabbit population increasing dramatically in certain areas. That happens during summers that last quite a few years. If the rabbits are able to gnaw through string, and they can’t be caught by hand, then there is only one way to catch them. The rabbits must be shot with bows and arrows. 

“If the rabbits are gnawing through your snares, and they can’t be caught by hand either, then the only other way to get rid of them is by bow and arrow.” Lord Bolton says. “What I can do is send some of my men to hunt the rabbits in order to get rid of them for you. However, since my men shall be hunting them, the meat and fur shall be my property.” 

The farmer nods in agreement. “Thank you very much milord.” The farmer says. “Just get rid of them please. Besides, I am too busy to tan rabbit skins.” 

Roose, nods and calls Locke over. “Go get some of your men together.” Roose orders. “Go with this man back to his hut, and kill as many rabbits as you can. Bring the meat and fur back to the castle.” 

Locke, nods eagerly. “Yes milord.” Locke says. 

Locke, walks up to the farmer. “Come with me.” Locke says. “My men and I shall take care of your rabbit problem for you.” 

The farmer nods eagerly and follows Locke out the door. A few minutes later, Mara and Faye enter the great hall. Faye, carries Mordred in her arms. Mara, carries a fur rug. 

“Milord…,” Mara says as she bows. “You must see this.” 

Mara, lays the fur rug down on the floor. Faye, then sets Mordred down on top of the rug. Mordred, wriggles around on the rug. Then, Mordred, flips from his belly to his back. 

Roose, raises a brow. His grandson is already rolling over then? Quite an interesting development. 

“And that is not all.” Faye says with some anticipation. “Just keep on watching.” 

Mordred, wriggles around on his back. Then, out of the blue, Mordred, flips back back onto his belly. Roose’s eyes widen instantly. Babes shouldn’t be able to do that until they are five moons old or so. 

“The little lad just did it this morning.” Mara says with some clarification. 

Roose, manages a small smile. His grandson is developing better than anticipated, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, this could mean the boy will make a very fine young man when he grows up. 

Just then the door opens. Everyone turns towards the door. A figure clad in leathers walks in. The figure has shoulder length brown hair and gray eyes. It is lord Eddard Stark. He is here to collect his taxes. 

Mordred, tries to crane his head towards the newcomer. Since everyone has gone silent, this newcomer must be a lord like his grandfather. 

Roose, nods. “Lord Stark…,” Roose says as he acknowledges his lord. “I trust your trip was a good one.” 

Lord Stark simply nods. “Aye, it was.” Lord Stark says. 

_Lord Stark...the Warden of the North._ Mordred thinks to himself. _He must be here to collect his taxes._

Roose, turns to Mara and Faye. “The two of you are dismissed.” Roose says. “I must speak with Lord Stark.” 

Mara and Faye bow respectfully. “Aye milord,” Mara says. 

Faye, picks Mordred up. Mara, scoops up the rug. Faye, follows her mother as they both leave the great hall. In the shadows nearby, a figure watches them leave with contempt. It is Myranda. Myranda, scowls as she stares at the doorway. 

_I must inform Ramsay of this…,_ Myranda thinks as she slips out of the room unnoticed. 

Roose, simply gets up from his chair. He holds out a bag of money. He doesn’t like paying his taxes once a year, but as he is a vassal to House Stark, it is his obligation. 

Meanwhile, Myranda walks stealthily down a hallway until she reaches a door. She knocks. 

“Who is it?” Ramsay’s voice comes from the other side of the door. 

“It’s me, Myranda.” Myranda says. “I bring rather interesting news regarding your little bastard.” 

“Come in!” Ramsay says. 

Myranda, opens the door. Ramsay, is sitting by the fire, peeling an apple with a knife. He looks up at Myranda. 

“Tell me, what news do you bring of my little bastard?” Ramsay asks. 

Myranda, grits her teeth. “The little bastard has learned to roll over.” Myranda says with a deathly voice. 

Ramsay, narrows his eyes. “Why is that a problem?” Ramsay asks. 

Myranda, grits her teeth even more. “The little bastard is able to roll from his belly to his back...and from his back to his belly.” Myranda says. “He shouldn’t be able to do the latter until he is five moons old at least. He is only three moons old at the most!” 

Ramsay’s eyes widen. His son is able to do something that he should not be able to do yet? What does this mean?

“Your father seemed impressed.” Myranda says with a deathly voice. “He even smiled a little.” 

Ramsay’s eyes widen even more. His father smiled? Hardly anything makes the Lord Bolton smile these days. If his little bastard is able to impress his father by simply just rolling over, then what does this mean for _his_ future?

* * *

Faye, smiles and sings as she rocks Mordred in her arms. It has been two days since Mordred learned to roll over. He seems to grow more and more confident with his movements. Whenever he is out of the cradle, he is constantly moving. However, like all babes, Mordred still enjoys his naps. 

Mordred, yawns as he slowly starts to drift off to sleep. Faye, smiles and sets the bundled Mordred down in the cradle. Mordred, finally shuts his eyes. Faye, steps away and glances at the basket nearby. Ailis, is already asleep. Faye, glances at the doorway. She is really feeling the need to use the privy. 

_I don’t want to leave them alone,_ Faye thinks. _But...I really need to use the privy._

After a few minutes, Faye, sighs and heads towards the door. Myranda, has actually not been seen hanging around the nursery. Perhaps it will be fine to leave Mordred and Ailis for a few minutes. Faye, quietly leaves the room. She shuts the door behind her. Faye, walks down the hallway until she reaches the doorway to the courtyard. Once Faye is out of sight, a figure emerges from the dark end of the hallway. It is Myranda. Myranda, frowns as she enters the nursery. She seethes with rage as she looks down at Mordred, who is sleeping sweetly in the cradle. 

_I have to figure out a way to get rid of this little brat._ Myranda thinks. _Trying to suffocate him didn’t work. What will work then?_

Myranda, looks at the wooden backings in the corners of the room. Lighted candles sit on little metal forks which sit very close to the wooden backings. Myranda, grins as she comes up with an idea. If suffocating him won’t work, then perhaps _burning_ him will work. A candle falling over and catching the wood on fire is a believable _accident_. 

Myranda, approaches the candles. She tilts one over against the wood. The wood smolders as the flame from the candle touches the wood. Within seconds, small flames erupt from the wood. Myranda, steps back and grins as she watches the wood slowly burn. The door is nearby. With any luck, the door will catch fire, preventing anyone from saving the little bastard. 

Myranda, grins as she steps out of the room. She grins an evil grin as she glances back at the cradle. _Goodbye little bastard…,_ Myranda thinks. She shuts the door but fails to close it all the way, leaving it ajar. 

In the cradle, Mordred, sleeps soundly, unaware of the disaster happening in the room. 

_Mordred, feels himself running through a dry field. He eventually reaches a ledge. Below him, is a great big city, full of stone buildings. In the sky above the city, is a fast moving shape with wings. Fire, spews out of the shape. Mordred, realizes instantly what the shape is. It is a dragon!_

_The dragon spits fire over the buildings. Buildings explode with fire. People run for their lives in the streets below. The screams and agonized cries of burning people fills the air. Then, the horrible dream starts to fade. The voice of Lady Life and rebirth soon fills Mordred’s head._

_“Mordred, wake up!” Lady Life and Rebirth’s voice says urgently. “Your father’s bed warmer Myranda, has set the nursery afire! You must wake up and cry to alert the castle to what is happening. If you don’t, both you and Ailis will perish!”_

Mordred’s eyes fly open with a start. _Fire!?_ Mordred thinks as he stares at the ceiling above him. He can clearly see smoke filling the room. The smoke tickles Mordred’s lungs and throat. Mordred, does the only thing he can do. He starts screaming his lungs out. This wakes Ailis, up who immediately begins to cry as well. Maybe between the two of them, someone will at least hear them and come to their rescue. 

_Fire!_ Mordred thinks as he wails his lungs out. _Please, someone help us!_

The smoke is starting to become thick. Mordred, coughs between wails. _Help!_ Mordred thinks desperately. _Somebody please save us!_

Then, Mordred can hear shouting and furious footsteps coming towards the room. The door creaks open. Two strong arms lift Mordred out of the cradle. Mordred, can tell that his rescuer is a man. The sound of water hitting stone and the sizzling of steam fills the room. Faye’s panicked voice suddenly comes into the room. Mordred, feels himself being passed to another’s arms. It is Faye. Mordred, would recognize her touch anywhere. 

Faye, cries as she holds Mordred and Ailis close. Gavyn, stands by the cradle, just staring at the burnt wood in the corner. Gavyn’s older brother and father hold buckets. Water sits on the floor below the charred wood. 

“That was close.” Gavyn says. “I can’t even stand to think what would have happened if I hadn’t heard the babes crying and come to investigate.” 

Gavyn’s father, Barron, looks at the charred wood. Barron, is a strong man with gray hair and blue eyes. He narrows his eyes as he looks at the scene. “How did the fire even start?” Barron asks. “It didn’t start at the hearth. It had to have started over here.” 

Gavyn’s older brother, Aidyn, looks at the charred wood and the metal stand that held the candles. Aidyn, is a young man, just a few years older than Gavyn. Aidyn, has short black hair and blue eyes. 

“That stand is for candles.” Aidyn states. “Perhaps a candle fell over and set the wood afire.” 

“The candles were perfectly fine when I left the room.” Faye says between her sobs. “I don’t understand how one could just fall over. I checked to make sure that everything was sound before I left. I closed the door softly so I wouldn’t wake the babes. It couldn’t have been that the door slammed and caused a candle to fall.” 

Gavyn, narrows his eyes. “Are you certain that you closed the door?” Gavyn asks. “The door was ajar when I came to investigate.” 

Faye, suddenly goes silent. The three men also go silent. Their minds immediately wander back to the strange incidents that have happened since Mordred came to the Dreadfort. Everytime, the door is found ajar. Barron, grimaces when he suddenly notices a crucial detail. All of the candles are still in their places, except for one. The wick is sitting against the wood, almost as if someone _deliberately_ pushed the candle over so that the wood would catch fire. 

Faye, sniffles when she finally sees this crucial detail as well. This fire was no _accident_. Faye knows just who to blame. 

_Myranda!_ Faye thinks sourly to herself. _Myranda did this. She tried to murder Mordred again. She almost killed Ailis as well._

Faye, sniffles some more. She shouldn’t have left the room. She gave Myranda the opportunity to harm Mordred. _I can’t leave Mordred or Ailis alone at all…,_ Faye thinks to herself. _I can’t even leave the room to use the privy without something happening. This is terrible._

Mordred, has finally stopped crying. He looks around the smoky room. Myranda, tried to kill him again. That day he almost suffocated in his cradle, he just knew that it was Myranda. He recognized her evil aura. 

_This is the second time that horrible woman has tried to kill me…,_ Mordred thinks grimly to himself. _That woman has officially made herself an enemy of me._ **  
**


	7. Emergence

Mordred, giggles as he rolls off of the fur rug. Ailis, lays a few inches away. Ailis, coos and babbles as she moves along the fur rug. It has been two and half months since the fire in the nursery. The wooden backing that caught fire has been replaced. Most of the servants within the castle consider the fire to be an accident. However, Faye, her family, the kitchen servants, and others all know deep down that it wasn’t an accident. Lord Bolton, does consider the fire to be suspicious, but really there is no proof of foul play, other than the door was ajar. 

Faye, sits by the hearth, kitting with some gray woolen yarn. She glances up and sees that Mordred has rolled off of the rug _again_. She sighs and puts her knitting down. Faye, walks over and places Mordred, back on the rug. “You are a very active little one that is for sure.” Faye says.

_I hate just lying around…_ , Mordred thinks. _I just want to move._

“E-ah...ahh...ba-ga…,” Mordred babbles. “Eee...bah...bah-ahh...da.”

Faye, smiles. Mordred, is developing so well. In fact, he is developing much faster than anticipated. He can already babble certain vowels like a pro. He is even trying to pull himself into a crawling position. Most babies can’t do that until they are at least seven moons old. The earliest that Faye has heard of a baby crawling, is six moons old. Mordred, is only five moons old at the most.

Faye, gets up and glances at the door. She frowns. _I can’t leave the room even for a minute…,_ Faye thinks grimly to herself. _I almost lost them both._

Faye, closes her eyes. Faye and the other servants have told Lord Bolton about what Myranda said the night Mordred arrived at the Dreadfort. Lord Bolton seemed very interested in their statement, but really there is no proof that Myranda is the one causing the strange incidents. No one _sees_ Myranda around the nursery when the incidents occur. There is nothing that Lord Bolton can do. However, Lord Bolton does look at Myranda with suspicion now. Faye, is certain that if or when Myranda gets caught in the act, Lord Bolton will not hesitate to execute Myranda.

Just then, Mara, walks into the room. She carries a tray of food in her hands. Faye, happily goes to sit at the table. Mara, sets the tray in front of her. There is a bowl full of hearty soup full of vegetables and meat, two slices of bread, one of them buttered with some blackberry preserves on top, a wedge of cheese and a link of sausage. 

Faye, digs into her soup. “Rabbit stew again.” Faye says. “Why, it is especially meaty.” 

“Aye, there are a lot of rabbits this summer.” Mara says. “Lord Bolton, has gotten more reports of rabbits taking over farmers fields. Why, he just sent out more men to hunt rabbits this morning.” 

Faye, looks at her stew. Sure rabbits look cute, but they can be very destructive to crops if there are too many of them. This summer has lasted several years. No wonder the rabbit population has gotten out of control. So Lord Bolton has been sending men out to fields to hunt rabbits. This means that Mara and the kitchen servants have been cooking _a lot_ of rabbit meat. There are so many rabbits, there is even enough meat for the servants stew. Faye, can just imagine how busy the butchers and hide tanners are. 

_I wonder if grandfather is starting to get tired of eating rabbit everyday…,_ Mordred thinks. _I don’t mind. Faye’s milk has been tasting really really good lately._

“Ah-ba...gaa...e-ah….eee...ha-ahh…,” Mordred babbles. “Eee...da...ahh...ha…gaa-ahh.” 

Faye, just blinks as she listens to Mordred babble. “I am also sure that the butchers and hide tanners are also very busy.” Faye says. 

Mara, nods. “Aye, that they are.” Mara says. “Why, I heard from the laundress that the hide tanner has piles and piles of prepared rabbit skins.” 

_Wow! Grandfather’s men must be catching a lot of rabbits…,_ Mordred thinks. 

“Waah! gaa-ahh...bah-baa...da-ah.” Mordred babbles. 

Faye, just blinks a few times. “What will Lord Bolton do with all of those rabbit skins?” Faye asks. 

“Lord Bolton will sell or trade them.” Mara says. “Whatever he doesn’t sell or trade, shall be made into clothes.” 

_Probably none for us though…,_ Faye thinks to herself. 

Mordred, grins. _Grandfather may have enough rabbit skins to make himself a coat!_ Mordred thinks. 

“Gaa!” Mordred babbles. “Ahh-bah...ga-ba….baa...baa.” 

On the rug, Mordred, looks at a basket full of wooden and cloth toys nearby. He stares at a wooden hoop poking out of the basket. For some reason, Mordred, just feels like he wants it. Mordred, rolls off of the rug again, towards the basket. Mara, turns and notices Mordred, on the cold stone floor. Mara, swiftly scoops Mordred up and places him back on the rug. Mordred, pouts a little. 

Faye sighs. “Mordred is very active.” Faye says. “He keeps rolling off of the rug.” 

Mordred pouts as he looks at the wooden hoop in the basket. If only there was a way for the hoop to come to him. _I wish I had my magic,_ Mordred thinks. _Then the hoop would just slide right out of the basket and slide right towards me._

In his past life all Mordred had to do was use his magic if he wanted something. The object of his desire would then either slide or float to him. Mordred, looks longingly at the wooden hoop in the basket. Then, out of the blue, something happens. The hoop almost seems to move. Mordred, is actually stunned by this. 

_What just happened?_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I just stared at it, and it moved._

Mordred, mulls over this for a few minutes. Then, it finally hits him. Maybe...just maybe, he has retained some of his magic. 

Mordred, almost grins to himself. If he has his magic, then he can do all sorts of things. Mordred, then goes back to staring at the hoop. _Move!_ Mordred thinks. _Come to me!_

The hoop moves slightly. Mordred, keeps on staring. The hoop moves even more. Then, the hoop suddenly falls out of the basket, and falls to the stone floor with a loud thud. The sound startles Faye and Mara. The two women just stare at the wooden hoop lying on the stone floor. 

“How did that happen?” Faye asks with genuine surprise. “That toy was in the basket when I last looked. It didn’t even appear as if it was getting ready to fall out. This just doesn’t make any sense.” 

Mara, just walks over and puts the toy back in the basket. “Maybe you just thought it was secure in the basket.” Mara states. “You have been under a lot of stress lately my dear. Maybe you are just imagining things.” 

Faye, narrows her eyes at the basket. Maybe her mother is right. Maybe she is just imagining things due to her stress. 

Mordred, looks sadly at the hoop. He almost had it. However, he did make it move. That is a start.

_I wonder what else I can do…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. 

* * *

Mordred and Ailis, play on the fur rug. Nearby, Faye, is busy kneading some bread in the kitchen. For the last few weeks, Faye, has been taking the babies out on longer excursions out of the nursery. Today, Faye, is helping out in the kitchen while Mordred and Ailis play on the rug. 

Mordred, moves around and babbles happily on the rug. It has been three days since he first discovered his magic. Ever since then, he has been testing out his magic whenever he gets an opportunity. He has been able to make many different objects move. However, he makes sure to do that while nobody is looking. 

At the stone sink, Betsey, glances over towards Mordred and Ailis. She has just finished her work. On the table, sit platters of leftover food from the Lord’s midday meal. Or at least what is left of it. The roast goose has been picked through by the other servants. However, a little meat still remains on the bones. On another platter, sits one lonely piece of buttered bread. A wooden bowl holds just a little bit of mashed parsnips. 

Betsey, huffs when she notices this. She glares at Mordred. _This is all your fault you little bastard._ Betsey thinks to herself as she goes to claim the rest of the leftovers. 

Mordred, however notices Betsey’s displeasure and frowns. He knows that Betsey almost caused him and Ailis to starve, and made Faye half sick. If there was just some way to get back at her for the pain and suffering she caused Faye. 

Then, Mordred, spots something on the floor nearby. It is a little brown mouse. The mouse happily grooms itself as it sits in the corner. Mordred, grins when an idea comes to mind. From conversations between the kitchen staff, Mordred, now knows something interesting. Betsey, positively _hates_ mice and rats. Mordred, looks at the mouse. In the past, he could communicate with other living things by creating a telepathic link. He wonders if he can do that in his new life. 

_Mousey, look over there…,_ Mordred thinks as he stares at the mouse. 

The mouse stops grooming itself and looks around. Mordred, grins. The mouse must have heard him. 

_Mousey, look over there…,_ Mordred thinks again. _That woman is eating food. Hurry up and go get yourself some crumbs before they are gone!_

The mouse lifts its head up and sniffs. The mouse looks over towards Betsey, who is eating the slice of bread. A few crumbs fall to the floor. The mouse quickly scurries over to where Betsey is standing. The mouse then begins scurrying around Betsey’s feet, trying to get some crumbs. 

Betsey, frowns and stops eating. Something just doesn’t feel right. The mouse lets out a squeak. Betsey’s eyes widen and she immediately looks down. Betsey, screams and about drops the piece of bread she is holding. The other kitchen maids look up. 

“MOUSE!” Betsey cries with terror. She backs away and into the stone sink behind her. “GET IT AWAY FROM ME!” 

Mara, looks down and notices the mouse scurrying around where Betsey was just standing. The mouse picks up a crumb of bread and starts munching away. Mara, frowns and shakes her head. “It serves you right for dropping crumbs on the floor.” Mara says. 

Betsey, cries at the sight of the mouse. “Please just get it out of here!” Betsey cries. 

_Mousey, quick, get out of here before they kill you!_ Mordred thinks as he telepathically speaks to the mouse. 

The mouse stops eating immediately. The mouse quickly scurries towards a small hole in the wall and crawls through it, out of sight. Betsey, doesn’t stop shaking though. Bliss, lets out a laugh. 

“Really Betsey?” Bliss asks with a mocking voice. “Afraid of a little mouse?!” 

Mordred, giggles as he looks at the cowering Betsey. _I sure got you!_ Mordred thinks. 

Faye, looks over towards the giggling Mordred. She is unaware of Mordred’s role in the incident. “Aye, Mordred thinks that is funny as well.” Faye says with a smile. 

* * *

Faye, pulls the covers of her bed over herself. Mordred, is sleeping inside his cradle. Ailis, sleeps inside her basket. It has been four days since the mouse incident. Right now, it is time for Faye and the babies to rest after a long day. 

Faye, smiles as she lays her head down on the pillow. _Goodnight Ailis...goodnight Mordred,_ Faye thinks to herself. _Sweet dreams._

Within minutes, Faye, is fast asleep. Taking care of two babies is such hard work. 

Inside his cradle, Mordred, moves his mouth a little. He frowns and opens his eyes. His mouth hurts a little. Then after a few minutes of thinking, Mordred finally realizes what it must mean. His baby teeth must be coming in. Mordred, whimpers just a little as he tries to go back to sleep. However, the pain in his mouth is just too much. 

_Chew…,_ Mordred thinks. _I need to chew on something._

Mordred, then realizes just what he needs. That wooden ring in the basket. But, he can’t get to the basket. However, there might still be a way to get it. Magic!

Mordred, lifts up his tiny hand and tries to hold up in the direction of the basket. _Ring…,_ Mordred thinks as he slowly starts willing the ring to come to him. _Come to me. Ring, come to me!_

There is a shuffle. Faye, shifts under her covers. Mordred, thinks of the ring floating and not sliding across the floor. If the ring were to slide across the floor, it might wake Faye up. Then Faye would place the ring back in the basket. 

_Float to me…,_ Mordred thinks as he wills the toy to come to him. _Come to me!_

Just then, Mordred, sees something appear over the cradle. It’s the wooden ring, floating in midair. Mordred, grins. He did it! He actually used his magic to bring something to him. Mordred, holds up his hand and wills the toy to float down into his hand. The wooden ring floats down, allowing Mordred to grasp it. Mordred, brings the toy to his mouth and starts chewing. 

_So much better…,_ Mordred thinks as the pain in his mouth slowly subsides. Mordred, chews on the toy some more. Then, he finally pulls the toy out of his mouth and goes to sleep. He still holds the wooden ring firmly in his tiny hands. That way, if his mouth starts hurting again, he can return to chewing on it. 

* * *

Faye, sighs as she slowly wakes up. Dim light is starting to shine through the windows. It is morning. Time to begin another day. She sits up and stretches. She smiles as she looks at the basket containing her baby girl. Faye, gets up from the bed and peeks into the basket. Ailis, is just starting to wake up. Ailis giggles when she sees her mother’s face. Faye, smiles back.

“Good morning my little darling!” Faye says. “I hope you had a good sleep.”

Faye, then walks over to the cradle. Time to say good morning to Mordred. However, when Faye looks into the cradle, she frowns a little. Mordred, is already wide awake. And...he is chewing on a wooden ring toy.

_That wasn’t in there when I put Mordred to bed…,_ Faye thinks to herself. _I don’t even remember giving it to him. This just doesn’t make any sense._

Just then, the door opens. It is Mara and Bliss. Mara and Bliss, smile when they see Faye standing at the cradle. However, their faces fall when they notice Faye’s unusual look.

“Faye, is something wrong?” Mara asks. As she walks up to look inside the cradle. However, Mara’s eyes widen when she notices the wooden ring in Mordred’s mouth.

“Aye, the little lad is starting to teeth.” Mara says with a happy voice. “Soon, it will be time for him to start solid food.”

Faye, shakes her head. “I didn’t even notice him teething last night.” Faye says.

Mara’s eyes widen. “He just started teething this morning then?” Mara asks.

Faye, shakes her head. “I don’t know how to explain it.” Faye says. “I just put Mordred to bed _without_ the ring. Then, when I woke up, it was in there and Mordred was chewing on it. This doesn’t make any sense.”

Mara and Bliss, look at one another. Then, they glance back at the door. “The door wasn’t ajar when we came up here.” Bliss says. “Maybe you just forgot that you gave it to him and accidentally left it in there when you went to bed.”

Faye, narrows her eyes. Maybe Bliss is right. Maybe she did give the toy to Mordred and just forgot.

Mara, just shakes her head. “Come on, let’s get to work.” Mara says. “Bliss and I will need to help make Lord Bolton’s breakfast. After breakfast, Lord Bolton is going away to deal with some business with Lord Karstark. He has requested to see Mordred before he leaves.” 

* * *

Roose, nods as server girls bring in platters of food. He nods as a server girl pours some mulled wine into his goblet. 

“Thank you.” Roose says as he takes a sip of his wine. 

Roose, then sets his goblet down and reaches for a slice of freshly baked bread with some butter and blackberry preserves slathered on top. On a platter nearby, is some roasted rabbit meat. On another platter, is some bacon. A silver serving bowl holds some soft boiled eggs. 

Roose, quickly fills his plate. After breakfast he has to ride out to meet Lord Karstark at the river that acts as the border between their lands. Apparently, peasants on Roose’s lands are complaining that peasants from Lord Karstark’s lands are destroying their fish traps. Likewise, peasants from Lord Karstark’s lands are complaining that peasants from Roose’s lands are destroying their fish traps. Roose and Lord Karstark wrote to each other, and subsequently agreed to meet at the river to see what could be done to solve the problem. 

Roose, looks around as he eats. He doesn’t see Ramsay anywhere. Roose, frowns. He told his son that he wanted to speak with him at breakfast. Ramsay should know better than to keep him waiting. Just then, Faye, walks in with Mordred. Roose, sets down his utensils. At least his servants know not to keep him waiting. 

Faye, smiles and holds Mordred out to Roose. “Aye, I have brought you the little lad milord.” Faye says respectfully. “He just started teething. It won’t be too long now and he will be ready for solid food.” 

Roose, manages a smile as he takes Mordred from Faye. He holds little Mordred, out in front of him as he examines Mordred’s progress. Mordred, has certainly grown since he arrived at the Dreadfort moons ago. Mordred yawns, showing off a pair of little white teeth poking out of his upper gums. 

“Aye, he is already attempting to crawl as well.” Faye says. “And he is already babbling as well.” 

Roose raises a brow. “Is that so?” Roose asks. 

Faye, nods respectfully. “Yes milord.” Faye says. 

_I just wish I could crawl…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I just want to move around._

“Bah...ahh…,” Mordred babbles. “Eee...gaa...ah-ah...bah-bah.” 

Roose’s eyes widen. His grandson is already able to produce many different sounds. His grandson will definitely grow up to be a fine little lad. 

Just then, Ramsay, walks in through the doorway into the great hall. Roose, frowns. It is about time his son showed up. 

Ramsay, frowns when he notices Mordred in his father’s hands. _Father is actually holding the little bastard now…,_ Ramsay thinks sourly to himself. 

Faye, shivers slightly as Ramsay, looks at Mordred in Lord Bolton’s hands. This is probably the first time that Ramsay has actually seen his son since he brought the child to the Dreadfort. _Lord Snow sure doesn’t look happy about Lord Bolton holding the child…,_ Faye thinks to herself. 

Roose, frowns as Ramsay sits at the table and starts filling his own plate with food. “You’re late for breakfast.” Roose says with some ire. “I told you that I wanted to talk with you before I left today.” 

Ramsay, looks up from his food. “Sorry father,” Ramsay says with his mouthful of food. “I lost track of time.” 

Roose, frowns at his son’s bad table manners. Mordred, turns his head towards his father. Mordred, purses his little lips together into a frown. Not only is his father a psychotic rapist, he also has very bad table manners. _Grandfather certainly does not sound happy with my father…,_ Mordred thinks. 

Ramsay, glances at his bastard son and frowns when he sees Mordred’s tiny frown. Is the little bastard actually frowning at him? 

Roose, notices Mordred’s frown as well. The child certainly does seem to be very aware of his surroundings. 

“Ramsay, as you know I will be leaving you in charge of the castle while I am gone.” Roose says. “When I eventually get back, I expect everything to be as it was when I left. Am I clear?” 

Ramsay, looks up from his breakfast momentarily. “Yes father.” Ramsay says with his mouth full of food. “I will take good care of the castle.” 

Roose, frowns and looks at Mordred, who is now seated on his lap. Even though Roose knows that Ramsay would make a terrible father, and it would probably be best if Mordred didn’t have too much interaction with his father, it does bother Roose that his son is not even attempting to bond with Mordred. There is no excuse for that. 

“Ramsay, we also need to talk about Mordred.” Roose says to his son. “I haven’t noticed you even trying to bond with him once.” 

Ramsay, looks up. “He’s a baby father.” Ramsay says. “It’s a _woman’s_ job to take care of babies.” 

Roose, frowns again. “Women do take care of babies Ramsay.” Roose says. “But you bond with a baby by holding it. I haven’t noticed you holding Mordred since you brought him here.” 

Ramsay, looks away. He really isn’t interested in holding or _bonding_ with his little bastard son. Ramsay, swallows the food in his mouth. 

Mordred, frowns at his father’s glum face. He will never forgive the man for taking away his birth mother. If there was just some way to get back at the man. Then, Mordred, sees Ramsay’s wine goblet and comes up with an idea. 

“Ramsay, answer me.” Roose says with a deathly voice. “I haven’t got all day. Why aren’t you trying to bond with Mordred?” 

Ramsay, still doesn’t answer. He just looks at his father. Mordred, sees his opportunity. Everyone in the room is distracted. Mordred, stares at Ramsay’s wine goblet and imagines it sliding across the table. The wine goblet silently slides across the table, away from Ramsay. When Ramsay reaches for his goblet, all he grabs is open air. 

Ramsay, becomes annoyed. “Now, where did my wine go?!” Ramsay says as he searches the table.

Ramsay, Faye, and Lord Bolton all look and realize that the goblet is all the way on the other side of the table. Ramsay’s eyes widen with surprise and shock. 

“How did my wine get over there?” Ramsay asks no one in particular. “Who moved it on me?!” 

Mordred, just can’t help it. He starts giggling. Ramsay, looks at his little bastard son with ire and annoyance. 

“What are you laughing about little bastard?!” Ramsay yells. 

The yell starles Mordred, who starts crying. Roose, frowns at Ramsay. Faye, immediately hands Mordred back to Faye, who tries to console poor Mordred. 

Ramsay, huffs and gets up from the table. He grabs his wine goblet as he leaves. Roose, looks at Faye. 

“You may leave.” Roose says. “I wish to eat my breakfast in peace.” 

Faye, bows to her lord. “Yes Lord Bolton.” Faye says. She quickly leaves the room with the crying Mordred in her arms. 

Roose, returns to his breakfast. However, he keeps glancing at the spot where the goblet was moved to. How could someone move the goblet without anyone else noticing. It’s almost as if the goblet slid across the table all on it’s own. However, Roose shakes his head at such a ridiculous notion. Goblets don’t move on their own. That is impossible. _Right?_

* * *

Mordred and Ailis are playing on the fur rug. It is midday now and Lord Bolton has left for the river to meet with Lord Karstark. It is expected that Lord Bolton will be gone until sundown. This means Ramsay is in charge of the castle until Lord Bolton comes back. However, Ramsay...has disappeared. A guard saw Ramsay, and Myranda leaving earlier with bows and arrows. The two of them must have gone out hunting. Faye and the other servants are glad that the sadistic Bolton bastard, and his equally sadistic bed warmer are gone. However, this means the castle now has no one to supervise it or keep order among the servants. Maester Wolkan, has taken it upon himself to keep order. 

Bliss and Faye, are both working around the nursery. It is almost time for Ailis and Mordred to take their midday naps. Bliss, looks at Faye with a disbelieving look as Faye, tells her about the events within the great hall this morning. 

“You’re saying that the goblet was somehow moved across the table?” Bliss asks. 

Faye, nods her head. “Yes.” Faye says. “I know it might sound ridiculous but it almost looked as if it slid across the table...on it’s own.” 

Bliss, just blinks. “But...goblets can’t move on their own.” Bliss says. “Right?” 

Faye, just shakes her head. “I don’t know how to explain it either.” Faye says. “All I know is that the goblet somehow moved across the table.” 

Just then, the two women hear something rolling across the floor. They look to see the wooden ring that Mordred was playing with, has rolled all the way across the room. On the rug, Mordred pouts and reaches for the ring. Faye, sighs. She figures she better go fetch that for Mordred. However, just as Faye is about to walk over and retrience the toy, the bells in the guard towers start ringing. Faye and Bliss look at one another with wide eyes. They run out of the room, leaving Mordred and Ailis on the rug. Myranda, isn’t here to harm Mordred. Mordred and Ailis should be alright if they are left alone for a little while. 

Bliss and Faye, make it outside. Guards and servants run around the courtyard. Guards on top of the towers get their bows and arrows ready. Mara, runs up to Faye and Bliss. Mara’s eyes are full of panic. 

“Wildlings!” Mara cries with terror. “Guards spotted them surrounding the castle!” 

Faye and Bliss look at one another with wide eyes. A wildling attack! Oh-no! And worse...Lord Bolton nor Ramsay are here to tell the servants or guards what to do. The servants have to defend the castle all on their own. However, Maester Wolkan, runs out into the courtyard. He begins shouting directions to the guards. 

“Don’t let them scale the walls!” Maester Wolkan yells. “Don’t let them get inside, whatever you do!” 

Meanwhile, Mordred and Ailis are still lying on the rug. Mordred, cranes his head towards the noise outside. Something is happening, he can sense it. However, Mordred, has something else on his mind as well. His gums are really starting to hurt. None of the toys on the rug are helping much. Mordred, stares at the wooden ring laying a few feet away on the cold stone. Mordred, was playing with it and he accidentally chucked it all the way across the room. 

Mordred, holds out his hand. That toy is the only one that seems to help the pain in his gums. _Come to me…,_ Mordred thinks. _Come to me._

The wooden ring stands itself up and rolls all the way to Mordred. Mordred, grins as he grasps it and starts chewing. _I keep getting better and better at this,_ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Faye, then runs into the room. She stares at the sight of Mordred chewing on the wooden ring. Faye looks back and forth between Mordred, and where the toy rolled to. How is this possible? Mordred, couldn’t have actually crawled over and retrieved the toy himself. The little lad is in the exact same spot where she left him. Faye, just shakes her head. She has other things to worry about right now. Faye, quickly scoops the babies up and runs out of the room. There is one place that is safe in the Dreadfort during a wildling attack. The Dreadfort’s crypts. Faye, runs past guards and scrambling servants. She holds the two babes tightly in her arms as she runs. Eventually, Faye makes it into the crypts. Mara, Ron and the kitchen servants are already inside. Aldric and the other male servants are helping the guards defend the castle. Mara, takes little Ailis from Faye. Faye, shakes as she sits down on the ground. All of the servants hiding in the crypts crane their heads up towards the noise. This is going to be a long day. 

* * *

Roose, frowns intently as he surveys the damage to the castle. He just got back from the border, only to learn that the Dreadfort was attacked by wildlings while he was gone, and Ramsay was missing in action the whole time. 

Maester Wolkan, looks grimly at Roose as he relays the news. “Our men fought bravely milord.” Maester Wolkan says. “Aye, but we lost five guards.” 

Roose, closes his eyes. “How many injured?” The Lord Bolton asks. 

“There are many injuries, but none of them are life threatening.” Maester Wolkan says. “The kitchen servants and women all are tending to the wounded.” 

“Good.” Roose says. “And what of Mordred and his wetnurse?” 

“They are just fine, milord.” Maester Wolkan says. “Faye, is a bit shaken up, but she will be fine. Her father, Aldric, was wounded but he will be just fine.” 

Just then, a guard opens up the gate. Roose and Maester Wolkan turn. Ramsay and Myranda enter the courtyard. Roose, frowns as he looks at his bastard son. He left Ramsay in charge of the castle, and Ramsay let him down. 

Ramsay, just looks around at the damage to the towers. “What happened?” Ramsay asks with narrowed eyes. 

“The castle was attacked by wildlings.” Roose states with an irritated voice. “Where were you?” 

Ramsay, gulps a little. “Hunting.” Ramsay simply says. 

Roose, looks Ramsay right in the eyes. “We lost five men.” Roose says with a deathly voice. “Because you were not here to give orders, it was absolute chaos. Maester Wolkan had to take charge. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

Ramsay, looks down. Roose, just shakes his head. “Go.” Roose says. “We are done here.” 

Roose, turns to Maester Wolkan. “See to it that the five guards who lost their lives are given proper burials.” Roose says. 

Maester Wolkan, bows. “Of course milord.” Maester Wolkan says. 

Maester Wolkan, walks away to do his task. Roose, heads for the great hall. Ramsay and Myranda, are left standing in the courtyard. Ramsay, looks down. He just messed up...big time. It is going to take a lot to get back in his father’s good graces. 

Myranda, frowns. Lord Bolton didn’t say anything about the little bastard being harmed or killed during the attack. The Lord of the Dreadfort probably would have said something if that had been the case. 

_Why couldn’t those wildlings have killed the little bastard too?!_ Myranda thinks to herself. _That would solve mine and Ramsay’s problem for good. Why?_

* * *

Faye, sits by the fire and holds Mordred and Ailis in her arms. She watches as the kitchen servants and other female servants tend to the wounded in the great hall. Nearby, Mara patches up Aldric’s arm. 

“Oh my poor man!” Mara fusses as she bandages up her husband’s arm. “Look at what those wildlings did to you.” 

Aldric, sighs as his wife pulls the cloth around his arm. “It’s not a big deal.” Aldric says reassuringly. “I’m alive. You, Ron, Faye, Ailis, and even little Mordred are alive. That is what matters.” 

Just then, Lord Bolton appears in the doorway. The servants and wounded guards and men all bow and greet their lord. Lord Bolton simply nods and makes his way over to Faye. Faye, nods and shifts Mordred a little so that Lord Bolton can see the child’s face. Mordred, is chewing away on the wooden ring. 

“Little Mordred is doing quite fine.” Faye says reassuringly. “He has been chewing away on his toy for a while.” 

Lord Bolton nods stiffly and leaves the room. Faye, watches her lord leave. Maester Wolkan, then walks up to her. He has just finished his task. 

“Don’t be bothered my dear.” Maester Wolkan says. “Lord Bolton is just a little upset with Ramsay is all.” 

“I can imagine so.” Mara says with a deathly voice. “Lord Snow left us to fend for ourselves!” 

Mordred, listens as Mara and Maester Wolkan begin talking. He understands what happened very clearly. Bad men attacked the castle while his grandfather was away. His father was supposed to be taking care of the castle, but he decided to go hunting instead, leaving the servants to defend the castle alone. Mordred, blinks a few times. No wonder his grandfather is upset with his father. 

_Father is not doing himself any favors…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _He has proven to be irresponsible and incapable of running a castle. Grandfather has a right to be angry and upset._

Mordred yawns. Ailis yawns a few moments later. Faye, looks at the babies. It is time for the babies to be put to bed. “I have to put the babies to sleep.” Faye says. “Goodnight everyone.” 

Faye, gets up from the stool and carries Mordred and Ailis out of the great hall. She heads straight for the nursery. 

* * *

Faye, mixes up some bread dough in a wooden bowl. Nearby, Mordred and Ailis, are playing on their fur rug. It has been two weeks since the wildling attack. Life has returned to normal within the Dreadfort. However, mysterious things keep on happening. It seems like things will not be where people last left them, or objects will appear to have moved without any cause or explanation. However, no one can figure out what is happening. 

Mordred, pulls himself up onto his knees and hands. Everyone within the castle is still oblivious to his magic. Aside from his magic, Mordred, has also been practicing something else. He has been trying to crawl for the last few weeks, with little success. 

Mordred, tries to propel himself forward. However, he falls back onto his tummy. Mordred, pouts. This is so frustrating! Why can’t he get it? He has already mastered rolling over. He wants to do something else. 

_Crawl!_ Mordred thinks as he pulls himself up again. He tries to propel himself forward. _Move!_

Mordred, manages to move a few paces before he falls back onto his tummy. Mordred, just pulls himself back up and starts all over again. He almost had it! 

At the table, the kitchen servants are oblivious to Mordred’s struggle on the floor. They are too busy working and talking. 

“Did ya hear?” Bliss says aloud. “Lord Bolton has sent out more men to hunt rabbits in farmers fields. And do you want to know who has volunteered to go on the hunts?” 

Faye, looks at Bliss. “Who?” Faye asks. 

“Ramsay of course!” Bliss says. “Ramsay even said that he would go out and clear the farmers fields himself.” 

Mara, sighs. “Aye, the bastard is trying to get back in Lord Bolton’s good graces.” Mara says. “I overheard Lord Bolton talking to Maester Wolkan a few days ago. Lord Bolton told Maester Wolkan that the next time he has to leave the castle for a day, he is leaving _him_ in charge instead of Ramsay.” 

Acelyn’s eyes widen. “Really?” Acelyn asks. 

Mara, nods. “Aye…,” Mara says with a sigh. “Ramsay’s irresponsibility really destroyed Lord Bolton’s trust in him.” 

Faye looks down. Apparently Lord Bolton and Ramsay haven’t spoken to each other much since the wildling attack. However, ever since the wildling attack, Lord Bolton, has seemingly taken an even greater interest in Mordred. Faye’s new routine everyday involves taking Mordred to see Lord Bolton once a day. 

Back on the floor, Mordred, grunts as he pulls himself up again. He really almost had it that time. _Move!_ Mordred thinks as he propels himself forward. He manages to crawl a few paces without falling onto his stomach. 

_Yes!_ Mordred thinks as he propels himself forward some more. _Crawl! Crawl!_

Mordred, makes it halfway across the kitchen before anyone notices. Faye, covers her mouth with shock as she tries to process the scene in front of her. Mordred, is actually crawling. 

Mara, laughs. “Look at that!” Mara declares. “The little lad is actually crawling.” 

Acelyn, looks at Mordred with wide eyes. “The earliest I have ever heard of a babe crawling is six moons old.” Acelyn says. “But, Mordred isn’t even six moons old yet.” 

“He will be six moons old in seven more days.” Mara says with a smile. “However, the little lad could not wait until then to crawl. He is a determined little lad that much is true.” 

“And a strong and clever one!” Faye adds with a smile. “We must show Lord Bolton.” 

Mara, nods in agreement. At the sink, Betsey, just huffs. “So the little bastard crawled a little early…,” Betsey says. “Big deal!” 

Faye, frowns as she picks Mordred up and leaves the kitchen. 

In the great hall, Lord Bolton, is holding court. The last peasant leaves. Just then, Ramsay, walks in through the door. He carries a large basket full of rabbit corpses. 

“Father…,” Ramsay says respectfully. “I have brought you thirty rabbits. I killed them all myself.” 

Roose, simply nods, pleased by this. Even though Ramsay is not very responsible, he is a very good hunter. Just then, Faye, walks into the great hall with Mordred in her arms. Faye, bows to Lord Bolton. 

“Lord Bolton, you must see this.” Faye says quickly. “I can assure you milord, you will be very pleased.” 

Faye, sets Mordred, down on the floor. Mordred, now lies on his stomach. Within a few moments, Mordred, pulls himself up to his knees and hands. Mordred, propels himself forward. Roose’s eyes widen instantly. Mordred, is actually crawling on the floor. He shouldn’t be doing that yet. In spite of himself, Roose, smiles. His grandson sure knows how to surprise him. 

“The little lad started crawling today.” Faye says with a smile. “The other servants and I were just working. We turned around, and he was crawling on the floor.” 

Ramsay, immediately becomes distressed at the sight of Mordred crawling on the floor. After Mordred learned to roll over, Ramsay had asked Myranda more about babies and how they learned to do things such as crawling, walking and talking. Myranda, told him that after rolling over, babies learn to crawl and sit. Babies usually don’t crawl or sit until they are around eight moons old. However, some babies learn as early as six moons old. Mordred, isn’t even six moons old yet. 

Roose, then asks Faye to bring Mordred to him. Faye, immediately gives Mordred to Lord Bolton. Lord Bolton, looks at his grandson. 

“You are certainly full of surprises.” Roose says. “You are a strong and more clever little lad. Stronger and more clever than I could have ever imagined.” 

Roose, looks up and notices that Ramsay is still standing in the middle of the room. Roose, waves his hand. “You are dismissed.” Roose says. “Take your catch to the butcher.” 

Ramsay, merely nods and leaves the room. Once out of the room, Ramsay, grits his teeth. It’s just as Myranda said. The little bastard is going to steal his position. 

He _should_ have let his dogs eat the boy. 

* * *

Mordred, crawls around on the floor of the kitchen. Ailis, crawls around as well, just a little more slowly. It has been a week since Mordred learned to crawl. He is already an expert crawler. Ailis, however, just learned to crawl a few days ago, thus why she is slow. 

All around the kitchen, the kitchen servants slave away at the tables and hearths. Faye is helping Bliss make loaves of bread. It will almost be time for Lord Bolton’s midday meal, which is why the kitchen is so busy. 

Mordred, crawls a few paces. He then tries to bring himself into a sitting position. He has been doing this ever since he learned to crawl. Mordred, squints has he tries to keep himself from falling over. _Sit!_ Mordred thinks. _Sit up!_

Mordred, manages to keep himself upright for a few minutes, before his entire body falls back. Mordred, pouts in frustration. He almost had it! 

Mordred, then begins trying to pull himself into another sitting position. Mordred, blinks as he struggles to keep himself upright. _Sit up_ ! Mordred keeps thinking to himself. _Sit up!_

Mordred, falls over. He pouts and begins the process again. _Sit up_ ! Mordred thinks as he tries to keep himself upright. _Sit up! Don’t fall over!_

After a few minutes, Mordred, does not fall over. He blinks and goes into a crawling position. After crawling a few paces, he immediately tries to go back into a sitting position. Mordred, manages to sit upright for a few minutes without falling over. Mordred, quickly goes back into a crawling position and crawls a few paces before he tries to sit up again. This time, Mordred does not fall over. Mordred, grins. He did it! He managed to keep himself upright!

Faye, gasps when she sees Mordred, sitting upright. “Mordred, is sitting!” Faye cries. “Look!” 

All of the kitchen servants turn and gasp when they see Mordred sitting upright. However, Betsey just huffs and looks away. Mara, frowns at Betsey’s attitude. Faye, just smiles and picks Mordred up. Faye, ruffles Mordred’s hair. 

“You are so strong and clever!” Faye says with a smile. “Wait until we tell Lord Bolton.” 

“Aye, Lord Bolton will be very pleased by this.” Mara says. 

“And to think, the child just started crawling a week ago.” Acelyn says. 

At the sink, Betsey snorts and just keeps on working. “This is not a big deal.” Betsey says. “The boy is still just a bastard!” 

Faye, Mara, and the other kitchen servants frown. Mordred, frowns too when he looks at the mean old fat Scullery maid. Mordred, then spots a bar of soap used for washing and scrubbing dishes. The bar of soap sits idly on the sink, just where Betsey can reach it. Mordred, grins as an idea comes to mind. Mordred, then begins staring at the bar of soap. 

_Move…,_ Mordred thinks to himself as he looks at the bar of soap. _Slide right off of the sink!_

The bar of soap moves until it slides right off of the sink. The bar of soap ends up sliding across the floor until it reaches the other side of the room. Betsey, huffs as she stops working. “Would ya look at that!” Betsey exclaims with a furious voice. “My soap slid all the way across the room!” 

Betsey, lets out a frustrated sigh as she walks over to pick the soap up. Betsey, grunts as she bends over to retrieve the soap. Faye and the other kitchen maids stifle little laughs. Betsey, looks so ridiculous when she bends over. Mordred, lets out a few giggles at the sight. 

Faye, looks away and towards the doorway. Time to inform Lord Bolton of Mordred’s latest achievement. Faye, holds Mordred securely in her arms as she walks through the doorway and down the hall towards the great hall. Inside the great hall, Lord Bolton, is addressing some peasants. After the last peasant leaves, Faye, approaches until she is standing in front of Lord Bolton. Faye, bows to her lord. 

“Lord Bolton.” Faye says very respectfully. “Your grandson is just learning how to sit up.” 

Faye, immediately sets Mordred down on the floor. Mordred, crawls a few paces and then brings himself into a sitting position. Lord Bolton’s eyes widen. His grandson is already sitting up? And just a week after he learned how to crawl?! Lord Bolton, manages a small smile. His grandson is full of surprises. The boy is certainly special, that is for sure. 

In a dark corner of the great hall, stands a figure. It is Myranda. Myranda, frowns as Lord Bolton takes baby Mordred into his arms and smiles. Myranda, growls with rage as she retreats back into the darkness. The angry maid walks down a dimly lit hallway until she reaches a door. Myranda knocks on the door. 

“Who is it?!” Ramsay calls out from the other side of the door. 

“It’s me, Myranda!” Myranda says. 

“Come in!” Ramsay calls out. 

Myranda, opens the door to find Ramsay, sharpening an arrow by the hearth. Ramsay, turns to Myranda. “What is it?” Ramsay asks when he sees the look on Myranda’s face. 

Myranda, grits her teeth. “Your little bastard has learned how to sit up!” Myranda says. “And of course, your father was all happy and pleased. He even held the little bastard in his arms!” 

Ramsay’s eyes widen. He trembles as he looks at the fire in the hearth. Ramsay’s worst nightmare is becoming a reality. His little bastard son is slowly stealing his position as heir of the Dreadfort. This is terrible. 

* * *

Mordred, sits on the rug as he plays with some wooden and cloth toys. It has been a week since he learned to sit up. Now, he can roll over, crawl, and sit like a pro. Today, he and Ailis are playing in the kitchen again. 

Just then, Faye, stops what she is doing. She looks at Mara. “Mother, can you help me take the babes back to the nursery?” Faye asks sweetly. “I must put them down for their naps.” 

Mara, nods. “Of course my dear.” Mara says as she stops what she is doing. 

Faye, walks over to a basket by the hearth. She picks up a newly sewn rabbit skin blanket. Lord Bolton, let Faye make a blanket all for Mordred, with some of the rabbit skins that had accumulated in the Dreadfort. Faye, just finished sewing the blanket two days ago. The blanket is soft and warm. Faye, then quickly wraps Mordred up in the blanket. 

Mordred, coos sweetly within his wrappings. Mara, picks Ailis up and wraps her in a soft woolen blanket. Faye and Mara, make sure that the babies are both snug within their wrappings before they head outside. 

A cold snap has hit the North, which is why it is especially important that the babes are wrapped very snuggly. Even during the summer years, a cold snap does occasionally occur. And with cold snaps, there is usually wind. A lot of wind. 

Faye and Mara, slowly make their way outside. Even within the courtyard, the wind is very strong. A pile of hay blows over. Servants rush to gather the hay before it all blows away. Faye, shivers as the wind stings her cheeks. This is the worst cold snap she has ever experienced. 

Mara, looks at Faye as she holds the bundled Ailis close. “Quickly now.” Mara says. Her voice is being drowned out by the wind. “Hurry up.” 

Faye, nods and holds Mordred close as she follows her mother through the courtyard. The two women practically run as they make their way towards the nursery. Once inside the nursery, the two women sigh with relief. Faye, puts Mordred into the cradle while Mara, places Ailis within the basket. Faye, glances at the windows. The wind has kicked up tremendously. The windows shake a little. Faye, shivers a little. Hopefully the windows don’t break or blow open. The position of the nursery windows means that if the windows were open during a wind storm like this, the fires would subsequently be blown out, or they would set the room afire. 

Mara, turns to Faye. “Aye, I must get back to the kitchen.” Mara says. 

However, the bells in the towers begin to ring. Faye and Mara look at each other. The two women run out of the nursery to see what the matter is. Surely it can’t be another wildling attack. Then, the smell of smoke makes Faye freeze in her tracks. Fire! On top of the guard towers, flames shoot up and start spreading around the castle. A torch must have blown over. Faye and Mara look at one another as the castles servants scramble to get water. When a fire of this size breaks out, all adult servants must help put it out. Faye, looks back towards the nursery. She doesn’t want to leave Mordred and Ailis alone, but she has no choice. If the fire was to spread to the nursery, both babes would perish. Faye, sighs and runs to grab a bucket. 

Inside the nursery, Mordred, blinks as he listens to the wind howling outside. _How am I supposed to sleep with this racket?_ Mordred thinks sourly to himself. 

Then, the door opens. Mordred, cranes his head towards the noise. Perhaps it is Faye coming back. However, as the figure nears the cradle, Mordred can tell that it is not Faye. It is Myranda. 

Mordred, frowns. _What is she doing here?_ Mordred thinks. 

Myranda, just looks at the sight of Mordred wrapped in his new rabbit skin blanket. Ramsay deserves a rabbit skin coat for all he has done. He has been out there hunting rabbits, but does he get a new coat. No, the little bastard gets a warm new blanket while his father still has an old fur coat. 

However, Myranda, smiles sadistically as she holds up a bucket of water. She has a novel idea of how to get rid of the little bastard. If suffocating and burning him won’t work, then maybe freezing him will work. However, Myranda must act quickly. If she isn’t out there helping to fight the fires spreading around the castle, then people will get suspicious. 

Myranda, quickly pours water over the fire in the main hearth. She turns to do the same to the corner hearth. Both fires are now completely out. Myranda, then sets down her bucket and turns towards the windows. Myranda, swiftly opens up the window and backs away as cold wind rushes into the room. Myranda, does the same with the other window. The wind is so strong, it blows out all of the candles within the room. Myranda, smiles at the darkness and coldness of the room. 

Myranda, picks up her bucket and gets ready to leave the room. She turns to look one last time at the cradle. _Goodbye little bastard._ Myranda thinks with a sadistic grin. 

Myranda, then opens the door and leaves the room. However, she fails to close the door, leaving it ajar. 

Inside the cradle, Mordred, whimpers as the cold air touches his cheeks. Ailis, cries as the wind shakes her basket. Mordred, closes his eyes. The only time he has ever felt such coldness, was when he was first born. The cold is just unbearable. 

Mordred, cries out. _Help!_ Mordred thinks. _Cold! Please, it’s so cold in here._

However, no one answers Mordred’s or Ailis’s cries. Mordred and Ailis both continue to cry out in the cold dark room. 

* * *

Faye, sighs as she makes her way back towards the nursery. Her arms and legs ache from running and carrying buckets of water. However, the castle is saved. That is what matters. However, Faye, is still concerned about Mordred and Ailis. 

Faye, reaches the door to the nursery. She freezes when she notices something amiss. The door...is ajar. Oh-no! Faye, swings open the door and screams. Cold wind is rushing into the room through the open glass windows. The fires in both hearths are out, along with the candles. The room is cold and dark. And worse...Mordred and Ailis are not crying. 

Faye, rushes over to Ailis’s basket. Ailis, starts crying after a little bit of prodding from Faye. Faye, then turns her attention to Mordred’s cradle. Faye, quickly touches Mordred’s cheek. Mordred, immediately starts whimpering. Faye, sighs with some relief. She gathers Mordred in her arms and rushes over to get Ailis. Faye, then sits on the bed and holds both babes close, trying to warm them up. Faye, sniffles as she looks at the hearth. She grimaces. There is water in the bottom of the hearth. 

Mara, Acelyn, and Bliss rush into the room. They gasp when they feel just how cold it is. Mara, then gasps even more when she sees the windows open and the fires out. 

“Faye,” Mara says with shock. “What happened? Why are the windows open?” 

“Why are the fires out?” Bliss suddenly asks. 

Faye, grimaces and gestures towards the hearth. “Look at the hearth, and you will see.” 

Mara and the other kitchen servants look. They gasp in realization. Water sits at the bottom of the hearth. In both hearths actually. _Someone_ poured water on the fires _and_ then opened the windows to let the cold air in. Bliss, grimaces. She knows just who to blame for this. 

“Myranda!” Bliss says with a hiss. “Myranda, did this! She tried to freeze Mordred to death!” 

Mara, turns to Acelyn and Bliss. “Go get some linen towels and wipe the hearths dry.” Mara says. “We need to focus on lighting new fires and warming up the room. And go tell Lord Bolton about this.” 

Acelyn and Bliss both nod and leave the room. 

Mordred, is snuggled against Faye’s chest. He is starting to feel a little warmer. He had tried to close the windows using his magic, but the wind was so strong, the windows kept blowing open. Mordred, blinks a few times. _My magic wasn’t strong enough to close both windows…,_ Mordred thinks grimly. _Ailis and I almost froze to death and I couldn’t do anything._

Mordred then frowns when he thinks of the evil Myranda. This is the third time the woman has tried to kill him. _I just wish there was some way I could get back at that woman,_ Mordred thinks glumly to himself. **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! Mordred's magic has finally surfaced. And don't you just hate Myranda? She has now tried to kill poor Mordred three times. Let's see, she tried to suffocate him, burn him, and now freeze him. What's next?


	8. A gift from the gods

_Mordred, stands in a snow covered field. In front of him lies a huge wall made of ice. Mordred, looks around. He is definitely nowhere near the Dreadfort, that is for sure. Then, a noise catches his attention. Mordred, looks to his right. About ten feet away, lies a sea with a snow covered shore. In the water, ten rowboats are approaching the shore. The occupants of the rowboats are wearing thick pants and strange looking fur parkas. Once on shore, the occupants of the rowboats jump out and begin approaching Mordred. Mordred, looks at the wall and the direction from which the boats came. The mysterious individuals must have come from across the huge icy wall. Then, Mordred sees something very alarming. The strange individuals are all carrying weapons such as axes and spears. These people are not here to be friends._

_One of the individual’s, a man, approaches Mordred. Mordred, can feel himself staring into the eyes of the strange man. The man slowly begins raising his axe._

Mordred, is brought out of his dream by a noise. He looks around. He is back in his nursery. Dim light is shining through the windows. It must be morning. Then, Faye’s face appears above the cradle. Faye smiles as she picks Mordred up from the cradle. “Good morning Mordred!” Faye says with a sweet voice. “I hope you had a nice sleep.” 

Mordred, simply smiles at his foster mother. Faye’s smile makes Mordred forget all about his strange dream. Faye, carries the smiling Mordred, over to the bed, and lays him down. Faye, then retrieves Ailis and sets her down on the bed. Faye, then swiftly unwraps both babes linen diapers. The moss underneath both Mordred and Ailis’s bottoms are soaked. 

“Aye, both of you need moss in your diapers. Hopefully I have enough for both of you.” Faye says. 

Faye, walks over towards the hearth and grabs the moss bucket. Faye, smiles. “I think I do have enough moss for both of you.” Faye says with an enthusiastic voice. 

Faye, then grabs the cauldron of water and returns to the bed. Faye, swiftly wipes Mordred and Ailis’s bottoms clean. Then, she quickly distributes the moss between Mordred and Ailis’s diapers. Once Faye is finished with that, she wraps up Mordred and Ailis’s bottoms. Faye, smiles with satisfaction. Faye, then unties her blouse, revealing both breasts. Faye, then picks both Mordred and Ailis up, and then goes to sit in a chair. Faye, sits both Mordred and Ailis on her lap, holding their back so they can reach her breasts. Ailis and Mordred each latch onto one of Faye’s breasts and start suckling. It has been around three months since the incident with the hearths and windows. Mordred, is now eight and a half moons old. Faye, was afraid that Mordred would become ill from his experience. However, the little lad has proven to be a hardy and healthy child. In fact, Mordred is so hardy and healthy, he is already trying to stand up. Whenever Mordred is near an object that he can hold onto, he pulls himself to his feet. 

Faye, just sits by the fire with Mordred and Ailis on her lap. She hums and hums as the two babes nurse. A few minutes later, Mara and Bliss walk into the nursery. Mara is carrying a full bucket of moss. Bliss, carries a bucket of clean water. 

Mara, sets the bucket of moss close to the fire. Mara, smiles sadly as she watches Mordred and Ailis nurse. “Aye, the two of them are growing up so fast.” Mara says sadly. 

Faye sighs. “I know. However, they do have to grow up eventually. Which is why I am enjoying these little moments.” Faye says with a slightly sad voice. 

Bliss, sets down the bucket of water and immediately grabs the cauldron of used water. Bliss, chucks the dirty water out the window. “Lord Bolton is going to meet with traders from King’s Landing today.” Bliss says. “Apparently traders from the South have heard about the abundance of rabbit furs in the North this year. Lord Bolton is hoping to make a good deal with the traders.” 

After a few more moments, Mordred and Ailis, have both nursed their fill. Since the two of them are starting to eat little bits of solid food, they don’t drink quite as much milk as they used to. Mara takes Ailis from Faye and grabs a spoon. Mara will feed Ailis, while Faye feeds Mordred. Faye, grabs a spoon and scoops up some porridge. Faye holds the spoon in front of Mordred’s mouth. Mordred simply blinks and quickly puts his mouth around the spoon, taking the porridge into his own mouth. Mordred chews just a little before swallowing. Faye, smiles and scoops up some more porridge. Unlike Ailis, Mordred is very eager when it comes to solid food. Ailis, on the other hand, isn’t as eager to eat solids. 

Mordred, smiles as he chews another bite of porridge. Mordred remembers the taste of food from his past life, and he actually does miss it. Despite the porridge being bland, Mordred wants to eat it because it is solid food and an important stepping stone for him learning to chew food. _I can’t wait to start eating other food…,_ Mordred thinks. _I have missed bread, meat, fruit and cheese._ _I have even missed vegetables._

After a few more spoonfuls of porridge, Mordred turns his head away. He is done. Faye puts the spoon down and looks over at her mother and Ailis. Mara is trying to encourage Ailis to eat some porridge. However, Ailis simply keeps turning her head away. Faye sighs and gets up from her chair. She sets Mordred down on the rug to play for a little bit. Now that Mordred is fed, Faye can focus on Ailis. Sometimes, Ailis just needs some encouragement from her mama. Faye sits back down in her chair and takes Ailis from Mara. Faye takes the spoon from Mara as well. Faye looks at Ailis as she holds the spoon full of porridge in front of Ailis’s mouth. 

“Ahh…,” Faye says as she holds open her mouth. “It’s time for your porridge. Can you please eat some porridge for mama?” 

Ailis simply blinks as she looks at the spoon. Then, Ailis puts her mouth around the spoon and takes the porridge into her mouth. Ailis chews and swallows. Mara sighs as she turns to Bliss. 

“I do remember that when Faye was a babe, she would only take solids if I was the one who offered them to her.” Mara says. “Babies can be like that sometimes.” 

While the three women are distracted, Mordred immediately crawls towards the bed and pulls himself up onto his feet. He has decided that today shall be the day that he stands up on his own, without support. Mordred, slowly releases one hand from the bed. He is now holding onto the bed with one hand. He does not fall over. 

Faye, Mara, and Bliss finally turn and notice Mordred. The three women gasp at the sight. “Oh the little lad is now holding onto the bed with one hand.” Mara says with a smile on her face. 

Bliss smiles as well. “Such a clever little lad.” Bliss says. 

“It won’t be long before the little lad is able to stand up on his own.” Faye says proudly. 

Then, Mordred, lets go of the bed. He falls on his bum. However, he brings himself into a sitting position and shuffles around until he is on all fours. Mordred, then lifts the upper half of his body up until he is standing on two feet. Mordred, doesn’t fall over. He giggles. He did it! He can stand up on his own now. Faye, Mara and Bliss all gasp again. 

“Look at that!” Mara exclaims. “The little lad is standing up on his own!” 

“I can’t believe it!” Bliss says. “He is only eight and a half moons old.” 

Faye, smiles and rushes over to pick Mordred up. “Such a smart little boy!” Faye exclaims. She turns to look at her mother and Bliss. “I must go show Lord Bolton. Watch Ailis for me.” 

Without another word, Faye, rushes out of the room with Mordred in her arms.

* * *

Roose sips his wine as his breakfast is brought out to him. Roose, nods to the server girls. “Thank you.” Roose says. 

Roose looks towards the doorway. Today, he is expecting traders from the South. Roose is hoping that he can get a good deal on the piles and piles of rabbit furs that he has. Even after having a blanket for Mordred made and having new cloaks made for himself and Ramsay, Roose still has piles and piles of rabbit furs left. Rabbit fur is often used to line the edges of nobles cloaks. Roose figures that he should at least get something from his furs. 

Roose sips some more of his wine. Aside from trying to sell and trade his rabbit furs, he needs to figure out who has been trying to kill Mordred since the boy got here. The wetnurse and the other servants who care for Mordred keep saying it is Myranda, Ramsay’s favorite bed warmer. Roose wants to believe them, but there is simply no proof that it is Myranda. Other than leaving the door ajar, the culprit leaves behind no physical evidence. The truth is, it could be anyone. Roose does know that at least half of the castle wants nothing to do with Mordred. But really, who would want the child dead? 

Roose, takes a sip of his wine. He is tempted to just execute Myranda due to the servants repeatedly pointing fingers at her whenever something happens. However, a lot of things need to be taken into consideration. What if he was to execute Myranda when it is someone else committing these acts? Then, the wetnurse may let down her guard, allowing the true culprit to harm Mordred. Roose, shakes his head. He could just imagine the reactions of the other Northern Lords if that were to happen. The other Northern Lords would criticize Roose’s mistake, citing that there was no evidence of Myranda committing these acts, and that Roose should have focused on finding the true culprit. 

Just then, Maester Wolkan enters the great hall. The Dreadfort’s maester holds a letter in his hands. Roose, raises a brow. A Letter? Maester Wolkan, bows to his lord as he holds the message out to Roose. 

“My apologies milord, but this message just arrived by raven a little bit ago.” Maester Wolkan says. “The letter bears the sigil of House Stark.” 

Roose, frowns as he takes the letter from Maester Wolkan. The Lord of the Dreadfort has a good idea as to what this letter is pertaining to. It must be time for the yearly gathering of the Northern Lords at Winterfell. During the last month of every year, Lord Stark summons his vassals and their heirs to discuss politics. The gathering is a time for all of the Northern Lords to drink and dine, and to discuss the year’s events and ways to prepare for the coming year. Roose frowns a little. Lord Stark has always been a gracious host but the discussions can turn the gathering into a dull affair. Besides, the Northern Lords rarely ever talk to Roose. 

Roose opens the letter and begins reading it. “It is time for the gathering of the Northern Lords at Winterfell.” Roose says simply. “The gathering shall take place by the next moon.” 

Roose, looks at Maester Wolkan. “As you know, the gathering of the Northern Lords is a long affair which means I shall be gone until the next morning.” Roose says. “I shall leave the castle in your capable hands. I am not ready to entrust Ramsay with the castle just yet.” 

Maester Wolkan, bows respectfully to his lord. “Of course milord.” Maester Wolkan says. 

Just then, Ramsay enters the great hall. Roose, just watches Ramsay sit down at the table. 

“Father.” Ramsay says with a respectful tone of voice as he starts filling his plate. Ramsay looks over and sees the letter from House Stark. “A letter from House Stark? I thought you already paid your taxes, father.” 

“Yes, I already paid my taxes.” Roose says with some annoyance. “This letter is not about taxes. It is time for the yearly gathering of the Northern Lords at Winterfell.” 

Ramsay looks up from his food. “Does this mean you are leaving again?” Ramsay asks with his mouth full of food. 

Roose, frowns at his son’s bad table manners. However, before Lord Bolton can speak, Faye enters the great hall with Mordred in her arms. Faye, bows to Roose. 

“Lord Bolton.” Faye says very respectfully. “I have brought you little Mordred. I have something important to show you.” 

Faye, sets Mordred down on the floor. Mordred, shuffles until he is on his feet and hands. Then, Mordred slowly lifts the upper half of his body up until he is standing on two feet. Mordred, stands straight for at least a minute before he falls on his bum. Roose’s eyes widen instantly. His grandson actually pulled himself up into a standing position without holding onto something. Sure the little lad fell over after a minute, but babies don’t really start standing up independently until they are at least ten moons old. Roose manages a small smile. Ramsay looks away as his father takes Mordred into his arms. Roose, smiles as he looks at his grandson. 

Roose, looks back at Mordred. Mordred, gives his grandfather a cheeky smile. _I just want to start walking…,_ Mordred thinks. _I am getting tired of only being able to roll over, crawl, and sit up._

“E-ah...ga-wa...oo...ba-wa…,” Mordred babbles. “Eee...ahh-ge...ta-ooh...bee...ahh...ta...ra-oh...ca...e-saah.” 

Roose raises a brow at Mordred’s babbling. Roose, has noticed that his grandson has been producing more advanced sounds when he babbles. The child is already stringing vowels and different sounds together. It is almost as if the boy is trying to produce words. This may be a sign that the child will be an early talker. And since Mordred is already attempting to stand up as well, this must mean that he will be walking soon as well. Roose, manages another smile. His grandson sure does know how to surprise him. 

After a few minutes, Roose turns his attention to Ramsay. “As you know, the gathering of the Northern Lords begins midday and lasts all night. I shall be taking a contingent of men and staying the night there.” Roose says. “I shall be leaving Maester Wolkan in charge of the Dreadfort while I am gone. I still don’t trust you to look after the castle.” 

Ramsay, looks down. “...I understand father.” Ramsay says after a few minutes. 

“Good.” Roose simply says as he hands Mordred back to Faye. 

Roose, begins eating his food. However, the peace is interrupted by a guard bursting into the room. The guard escorts two other guards, who are dragging a bedraggled looking man with dark hair and wild and insane looking dark eyes. The insane looking man’s clothes are covered with blood. 

“AHH-HAA!” The man yells out with an insane sounding cry. “HAA!” 

Roose, frowns. “What is the meaning of this?” Roose asks with an irritated voice. “Can’t you see that I am eating?” 

The guard who burst into the room bows to his lord. “Lord Bolton, I apologize for interrupting your breakfast.” The guard says. “However, there is a matter that must be discussed.” 

The guard then turns towards the doorway and nods. Another fourth guard walks in. The fourth guard is escorting a hysterical looking peasant man, who carries something in his arms. Roose’s eyes widen when he sees what the peasant man is carrying. It is the bloodied corpse of a small girl. The peasant man cries with grief and rage as he looks at the insane man being held down by the guards. 

“Lord Bolton, this man murdered my daughter!” The peasant man cries with rage and grief. “I want justice!” 

Roose, narrows his eyes at the guard who first entered the room. The guard bows respectfully. “We were out on patrol around the castle, when a hysterical peasant man approached us.” The guard explains. “The man explained that his young daughter had gone missing during the night. It looked as if someone had broken into his family’s hut and took her. We helped the man search the forest surrounding his farm and the castle.” 

The first guard then gestures towards the insane looking man. “We eventually came across this man...and the child’s corpse.” The guard says with some disgust. “The man was repeatedly stabbing the poor child’s body. We immediately restrained the man and examined the child’s corpse. It appears that he raped her and then killed her by stabbing her repeatedly.” 

The guard fishes a bloody knife out of his bag. “This is the knife he used, Lord Bolton.” The guard says. 

Roose, frowns as he looks between the insane man and the child’s corpse. The usual punishments for men who commit murder is either execution, or taking the black. However, the man is acting as if he is completely insane. There is no way Roose can send this man to the wall. There is only one thing left to do. Roose turns and summons Locke over to the table. “Go fetch my sword.” Roose says. “Meet me out in the courtyard.” 

Locke nods eagerly. “Of course milord.” Locke says before he leaves. 

Roose turns to the guards who are holding the accused man down. “Take him out into the courtyard. I will be out there shortly to carry out the sentence.” 

The two guards nod and start dragging the insane man away. Roose, frowns as he gets up from the table. He hasn’t even begun his day, and he already has to execute a murderer. Nearby, Faye gasps as the bells in the tower start ringing. She knows what this means. Execution time. She runs out the doorway and through the courtyard as she makes her way to the nursery. Mara and Bliss both walk out onto the platform. Mara is holding Ailis in her arms. Mara’s eyes are wide as she watches the guards drag the murderer out into the courtyard. 

“What is it, Faye?” Mara asks. “What is happening?” 

Faye, gulps as she looks at her mother. “The Dreadfort’s guards brought in a murderer while Lord Bolton was having his breakfast. Lord Bolton is preparing to execute him!” 

Mara and Bliss both gasp as they look at the insane looking man in the courtyard. Lord Bolton, then emerges a few minutes later. Locke is already out in the courtyard. Locke, proudly hands Lord Bolton his sword. Two guards lower the murderer’s head until it is against a log of wood. 

“AHH-HAA!” The murderer yells out. “HAA!” 

Roose, holds his sword. “I Lord Roose Bolton of House Bolton, vassal of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North...sentence you to die for the crimes of rape and murder.” Roose says with a calm yet sinister voice. “Any last words?” 

“HAA!” The murderer yells out. “AHH-HA!” 

Roose, takes a deep breath and swings his sword. The murderer’s head falls to the ground with a thud. Roose, stands straight and orders his men to take the body away. 

Mordred, whimpers as Faye holds him close. It is true that man deserved to die for what he did, but Mordred could still feel the man’s pain as he died...even if it was just for an instant. 

Nearby, Myranda watches from the shadows. She simply blinks as she watches the Dreadfort’s men take away the murder’s head and lifeless corpse. Myranda, looks away. She imagines her own head being on the chopping block. Lord Bolton can be ruthless. If Lord Bolton was to ever figure out that she tried to kill the little bastard, Myranda knows that he will not hesitate to slice her head off. Lord Bolton is already looking at her with suspicious eyes. 

_Lord Bolton suspects me…,_ Myranda thinks glumly to herself. _I have to watch my step or else it could be my head on the chopping block next._

Myranda, steps back into the shadows. She desperately wants to get rid of the little bastard, but she isn’t willing to lose her head for it. She needs to think of more _discreet_ ways to kill the little bastard.

* * *

_Mordred, feels himself walking down a long corridor. He is low to the ground. He almost feels as if he is crawling on all fours. He reaches a door that is ajar. He can hear voices coming from the other side of the door. Mordred, feels himself push open the door. The voices belong to his father and Myranda._

_“The little bastard keeps on impressing Lord Bolton.” Mordred hears Myranda say sourly. “If the little bastard keeps on impressing your father, then your days as heir of the Dreadfort are numbered.”_

_“I know that.” Ramsay says with an angry voice. “I should have fed the boy to my dogs when I had the chance!”_

_Mordred’s mind reels with this information. His father let him live, but now the man wants him dead. Why? Mordred’s mind races with anger and rage. He tries to let out an angry cry, but all that comes out is a hiss Myranda, appears seconds later. Mordred, stares up into Myranda’s hate filled eyes._

_“Get out of here you stupid cat!” Myranda yells as she prepares to kick Mordred._

_Mordred, has no time to think of what Myranda just said. He turns around and darts out the door. He runs as fast as the wind until he reaches the kitchen. Mordred, feels himself trot over to a bowl of water, lying by the kitchen door. Mordred, looks into the water. It is not his face staring back at him. It is the face of the Dreadfort’s cat._

Mordred’s eyes slowly flicker open. He is back in his nursery. It is daytime. The last thing Mordred remembers is Faye putting him down for a nap. Then he fell asleep. 

_Such a strange dream…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _It was almost as if I was experiencing everything through the cat. How is that possible?_

Just then, Faye’s face comes into view. Faye, smiles as she picks Mordred up from the cradle. “Up from your nap already, eh? Are you hungry?” 

Mordred, blinks a few times. Perhaps a little snack will help him forget his odd dream. Mordred, smiles back at Faye and extends his tiny hands towards her breasts. Faye, takes that as a sign of yes, and slowly undoes her blouse. Faye, sits down and brings Mordred up to her breast. Mordred, latches on immediately and starts suckling. It has been four days since Mordred learned to stand up on his own. Today, another cold snap has hit the North, which is why Faye is staying in the nursery and knitting. Nearby, Missy is hanging some freshly washed diapers on an indoor drying line by the hearth. In the walls on either side of the nursery, are iron hooks which allow indoor drying lines to be put up during cold days. 

In another chair, sits the old head laundress, Freya. Freya, is the oldest woman at the Dreadfort. Freya was born at the Dreadfort and has served house Bolton for a long time. All of Freya’s children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren were also born within the castle walls. When Old Freya became too old to scrub laundry efficiently, Freya’s oldest daughter took over the position of head laundress. However, Freya has still proven herself to be a good servant. Freya knows all about medicinal herbs so she is often called upon to help Mara and Maester Wolkan treat the sick and injured within the castle. When she is not treating the sick and injured, Freya spends her days knitting, sewing and telling stories to the Dreadfort’s children. Faye has known the old gray haired woman all her life. Mara says that Freya was actually a very beautiful woman when she was younger. Freya’s long grayish white hair used to be a silky black color. Freya’s bright light grey eyes have dulled over the years, and wrinkles have formed around them. However, Old Freya’s eyes are still beautiful looking. Old Freya’s lips are a dull pink color and surrounded by wrinkles. Mara says that Old Freya’s lips used to be red and plump. 

Faye watches as Freya expertely knits with gray wool. The old woman’s knitting needles click as they rub against one another. Right now, Freya is in the nursery, keeping Faye and Missy company. The old woman does this sometimes on dull days. After a few minutes, Freya looks towards the windows as the wind howls outside. “Aye, just listen to that wind.” Freya says with a crooning voice. “The wind is howling like wolves do at the moon!” 

Faye, blinks as she looks at the windows. “The wind is very strong indeed.” Faye says. “It is also colder outside. However, cold snaps during summer always pass.” 

Freya swiftly makes loops on her knitting needles. “Cold snaps are nothing compared to winter.” Freya says with her wise old voice. “The bitter cold of a Northern winter is something you can never forget.” 

Faye blinks as she strokes Mordred’s tiny head. “Yes, that is true. However, all winters do come to an end eventually. We are actually very lucky that this summer has lasted so long.” Faye says. 

Old Freya takes a deep breath as she makes more loops on her knitting needles. “With a long summer comes an equally long winter.” Old Freya says. “However, no winter in living memory has lasted as long as the long night did.” 

Mordred gurgles as he tries to process Old Freya’s words. The long Night?

Missy cranes her head curiously towards Old Freya. “The long night?” The young girl asks. “What is the ‘Long Night’ Old Freya?” 

Faye blinks as she gently strokes Mordred’s head. “The Legend of the Long Night is just a story.” Faye says. “That legend goes back over a thousand years.”

Freya looks sternly at Faye. “All legends are based in fact.” Old Freya says. “I wouldn’t tell it if I didn’t believe in it.” 

Missy stands by Old Freya’s chair. “Please do tell of the Long Night old Freya.” Missy says. 

“I fear that story is not for the ears of children.” Faye says a little apprehensively. She strokes Mordred’s little head. 

Old Freya simply sets down her knitting needles. “It is true that it is a scary tale.” Old Freya says. “However, since the girl asks, I must tell the story.” 

Old Freya, takes a deep breath. “The legend of the Long Night began over a thousand years ago. It is said that during the time of the first kings of the North, a terrible winter took place. The winter was so terrible, the sun was blocked out, locking the North in a dark night that lasted nearly ten years.” 

Missy gasps. “A night that lasted almost ten years!?” Missy says aghast. 

“Yes, child, a night that lasted ten years.” Old Freya says with a dark tone of voice. “Nothing could be grown during the Long Night. People starved and froze to death in their huts. Children were born into the darkness, and they died in the darkness. Many mothers actually chose to smother their babies rather than watch them starve or freeze to death. Even great Kings froze in their stone castles.” 

Missy shivers at the darkness of the story. Faye, tries to soothe the whimpering Mordred. “Old Freya, I told you that story was not for the ears of children.” Faye says. 

Old Freya pays Faye no mind. She simply continues on with the story. “The cold was not the only thing the people of the North had to worry about.” Old Freya says with an even darker tone of voice. “From the far North, came hordes of White Walkers riding ice spiders. The white walkers slaughtered thousands of first men, and destroyed everything in their path. All of those that the white walkers killed, came back as emotionless wights. The wights would in turn serve the white walkers.” 

Missy, shivers some more. Mordred, whimpers some more. Faye tries to soothe Mordred. “Old Freya please…,” Faye begs. “Your scaring Missy and Mordred.” 

However, Old Freya continues her story, unhindered. “That was a terrible winter indeed.” Old Freya says. “It took the combined efforts of the Great Kings and the magical beings, the children of the forest, to drive the white walkers up to the farthest reaches of the north. The great king Brandon Stark, then built the wall to help keep the white walkers at bay. Eventually, the long night ended.” 

Missy, blinks. “I thought that the wall was built to keep back the wildlings.” Missy says with some confusion. 

“No child.” Old Freya says. “The wall wasn’t originally built to keep the wildlings at bay. The wildlings used to roam the entire North, along with the first men. When the wall was built, the wildlings unfortunately became trapped behind the wall...with the white walkers. Over the centuries, the wildlings have attempted many invasions south of the wall. The Night’s watch has managed to keep the wildlings back, for the most part anyway. But who can blame the wildlings? They got cut off from the majority of their hunting grounds, and they got locked behind a great big wall of ice with creatures bent on destroying all life. No wonder the wildlings are angry with us.” 

Old Freya, takes a deep breath. “Make no mistake…,” Old Freya says. “The long night shall one day come again. And when it does...the white Walkers _will_ return to destroy all life.” 

Faye, sighs as Missy gasps with fear. “Now, it’s like I said Missy.” Faye says soothingly. “The Long Night is just a _legend_. It’s a story meant to scare children.” 

Mordred, gurgles as he stops nursing. Faye, smiles as she puts Mordred against her shoulder and starts rubbing his back soothingly. Mordred, blinks as he processes old Freya’s story. 

_What are White Walkers?_ Mordred thinks to himself.

* * *

Mordred babbles as he crawls around the nursery. It has been a week since he heard old Freya’s story. He has thought a lot about the story since then. However, Mordred also has other thoughts on his mind. He is determined to start walking. Mordred, grabs onto the bed and starts cruising around the bed. 

Nearby, Faye is knitting by the fire. Ailis, plays on the fur rug in the middle of the room. Faye, looks up from her knitting and smiles at the sight of Mordred cruising around the bed. The child has been doing that ever since he learned to stand up. Just then, Mara and Bliss come into the room. Mara, carries a tray of food. Bliss, carries a bucket of freshly dried moss. Faye, smiles and sets down her knitting. Mara looks over at Mordred and smiles. 

“Aye, the little lad is already an expert at walking while holding onto something.” Mara says with a happy voice. “It shouldn’t be too long before he is walking on his own.” 

“He is already so advanced.” Bliss says as she sets the tray of food on the table. “And Lord Bolton seems very impressed with the little lad.” 

Mara stands straight. “Lord Bolton hasn’t been pleased with Ramsay as of late. I daresay, if little Mordred keeps advancing like this, he could end up as heir of the Dreadfort instead of Ramsay.” Mara says. 

Faye, blinks a few times. “But I thought that bastards couldn’t inherit?” Faye asks. 

Mara nods. “That is correct.” Mara says. “Lord Bolton would have to have Mordred _legitimized_ first, officially declaring him a ‘Bolton’ instead of a ‘Snow’.” 

Bliss narrows her eyes. “I have always heard of Lords legitimizing their bastard children, but never grandchildren. Could Lord Bolton really legitimize Mordred instead of Ramsay?” 

Mara nods her head. “If Lord Bolton thinks that Mordred is a better potential heir than Ramsay, then yes.” Mara says. However Mara immediately frowns. “However, I don’t think Lord Snow would be very pleased if that were to happen. We’d really have to keep an eye on Mordred then.” 

Faye gasps when she realizes the meaning of her mother’s words. “You actually think Lord Snow would try to harm his own son?!” Faye asks with shock. 

Mara, hangs her head down. “You have seen Lord Snow’s reactions to Mordred’s achievements.” Mara says. “Lord Snow knows that with Mordred around, his position as heir of the Dreadfort is threatened.” 

Bliss, just blinks a few times. “But isn’t kinslaying a taboo?” Bliss asks. 

Mara nods. “Yes, but I don’t really think that would stop Lord Snow.” Mara says sadly. “Don’t the two of you remember what happened to Domeric, Lord Bolton’s legitimate son. The boy died of a ‘sickness of the bowels’. However, a lot of us older servants believe that Lord Snow actually ‘poisoned’ poor Domeric. To ensure he would end up as Lord Bolton’s ‘heir’.” 

Bliss and Faye both gasp with horror. If that is to be true, then little Mordred is actually in danger from his own father. Not only do Faye and the other servants have to worry about Myranda, they also have to worry about Ramsay.

While the three women talk, Mordred, cruises around the bed some more. Mordred looks towards the hearth. He has made up his mind. Today is the day he is going to walk. Mordred’s heart races with anticipation and uncertainty. What if he fails and falls over? 

Mordred, blinks and lets go of the bed. He tentatively puts one foot forward, and then the other. _Just move…,_ Mordred thinks as he slowly repeats the process. _Walking isn’t hard. Just keep putting one foot ahead of the other._

Mordred is already halfway across the room before Mara, Bliss and Faye notice. The three women gasp and cover their mouths with shock as they watch Mordred slowly and tentatively walk across the room. 

_I’m doing it…,_ Mordred thinks as he finally smiles. _I’m doing it. Yes!_

Mordred, reaches the cradle and grabs onto its side. He looks up at Mara, Faye and Bliss. Mordred, gives them a cheeky little grin. He did it. He walked all on his own!

Faye, can’t take it. She cries with joy as she picks Mordred up. “You actually walked!” Faye says as she strokes Mordred’s little head. 

“And to think…,” Mara says with a wondering look in her eyes. “The little lad is not even nine moons old.” 

“Just wait until Lord Bolton hears of this.” Bliss says. 

Mordred, blinks a few times. He looks at Faye with his big pale eyes. Mordred, has also been working on his babbling for a while. Today shall be the day he utters his first word. Mordred, has been thinking about what his first word should be. Mordred, now knows exactly what he wants it to be. 

“Ma-ma…,” Mordred babbles. “Ma-ma...ma-ma.” 

Mara’s eyes widen instantly as she looks back and forth between Mordred and Faye. She knows what this babbling means. Bliss, narrows her eyes and looks back and forth between Faye and Mordred. Faye, just looks at Mordred with confused eyes. Mordred smiles back at his ‘foster mother’. 

“Ma...ma…,” Mordred babbles. “Mama!” 

Faye gasps and nearly stumbles back from shock. Bliss, gasps and covers her mouth. Mara quickly takes baby Mordred from Faye so she doesn’t accidentally drop him in her shock. Mara, looks concernedly at her daughter. 

“Faye!” Mara says. “Are you alright? Pull yourself together! We must tell Lord Bolton.” 

Faye, doesn’t respond. She trembles a little. A few seconds later...Faye faints dead away.

* * *

Roose sits in his chair. He has just finished holding court. He looks at Maester Wolkan. “Maester Wolkan, I am going for a little hunt.” Roose says. “I will be back before sundown.” 

Just then, Faye and Mara walk into the great hall with little Mordred. Faye, clears her throat as she holds Mordred in her arms. “Milord, you need to see this.” Faye says with a tentative voice. 

Faye, sets Mordred down on the stone floor. Mordred, immediately gets to his feet. Mordred, then begins walking towards the table. Roose’s eyes widen immediately. His grandson is actually walking on his own. 

Just then, Mordred, turns around and falls to his bum. He then crawls over to Faye and Mara. “Mama!” Mordred says very clearly as he sits in front of Faye. “Mama! Mama!” 

Roose’s eyes widen even more. All of the other people in the room gasp and start whispering to each other. Did Mordred just call Faye ‘Mama’? Roose feels that as a lord he should probably be upset about this. His grandson is calling a maid ‘mama’. However, Roose has a feeling that this was probably destined to happen sooner or later. His son hasn’t tried to bond with the child at all, leaving the child’s wetnurse as his primary caregiver. With the child’s birth mother dead, the cook’s daughter has literally acted as Mordred’s mother ever since he got to the Dreadfort. Roose thinks the woman deserves the honor Mordred calling her ‘mama’. Besides, if Ramsay had actually tried to bond with Mordred, the boy probably would have said ‘papa’ first. 

Roose, manages a small smile. His grandson actually spoke a real word. His grandson is actually walking and talking and the little lad isn’t even nine moons old yet. Roose, gestures for Faye to bring Mordred to him. Faye, picks Mordred up and carries him over to Lord Bolton. Roose, quickly takes Mordred into his hands. 

“Gra...Gran…,” Mordred babbles. “Gran...da...Grand-da!” 

Roose’s eyes widen. ‘Grand-da’, is the precursor to ‘grandfather’. Roose smiles. “You are certainly full of surprises.” Roose says. “I truly believe that you are a gift from the old gods. If you continue to grow like this, I may have to reconsider your bastard position.” 

Faye’s eyes widen instantly. Lord Bolton must be talking about possible legitimization. Her mother is right. Lord Bolton does consider Mordred a better heir than Ramsay. 

Nearby, Ramsay and Myranda hide in the darkness of the hallway. Ramsay trembles as he looks at the scene with absolute horror. He heard his father’s words very clearly. Even though his father didn’t say it outright, Ramsay knows exactly what his father’s words mean. 

He has lost his position as heir of the Dreadfort...to his bastard son.

* * *

Faye knits quietly by the fire. Missy stands by the bed and neatly folds linen diapers. Ailis sleeps soundly in her basket nearby. It has been three days since Mordred learned to walk and talk. Right now, Lord Bolton is meeting with Lord Karstark in the great hall. Farmers that live along the river that acts as the border between their two lands have reported sightings of a strange river creature. Not only that, but fish traps that the farmers are setting out are also mysteriously disappearing. The few traps that have been found appear to have been destroyed by claws and teeth. So Lord Bolton and Lord Karstark are meeting at the Dreadfort today to talk about the problem. Right now, the two lords are enjoying a midday meal together along with Lord Karstark’s two older sons. 

Faye blinks a few times as she knits. When Lord Bolton announced the upcoming visit two days ago, Mara fretted about what to cook and serve for the midday meal. It isn’t often that the Dreadfort has other lords visiting for a meal. Faye told her mother not to worry too much and to just make the best food possible. Mara settled upon a suckling pig along with some roasted root vegetables. For dessert, Mara decided to make a fluffy cake topped with custard sweetened with honey and blackberry compote. Faye just hopes that everything goes well. 

In front of the hearth, Mordred lies peacefully in his cradle. However, his face scrunches up and his tiny hands ball up into fists. 

_Mordred, looks up at the ceiling of his nursery. He is in his cradle. Shouting and blood curdling screams come from outside his nursery. Just then, a warm red substance splashes onto Mordred’s face and body. Mordred, lifts his tiny hands as he looks at the substance. He recognizes the red substance immediately. It is blood._

_Then, a man suddenly appears over the cradle. The man looks exactly like the man from Mordred’s dream with the boats and threatening individuals. The man is holding a blood covered axe. The man slowly raises his axe, ready to strike Mordred._

Mordred, wakes up with a start. He cries his lungs out as he thrashes in his cradle. Faye, sets down her knitting needles and slowly picks Mordred up to try and soothe him. Faye, hums and hums as she tries to soothe Mordred. Slowly but surely, Mordred begins to calm down. 

Missy just stands by the bed. “What got into Mordred?” Missy asks curiously. 

Faye, sighs as she begins rocking the whimpering Mordred in her arms. “I have no idea.” Faye says. “Maybe the little lad had a bad dream.” 

_Bad dream…?_ Mordred thinks to himself as he whimpers. _It was more like a nightmare!_

Faye sets Mordred back down in the cradle and begins rocking the cradle. Mordred, finally stops whimpering. Mordred, puts his thumb in his mouth and begins sucking on it. Faye, sighs with relief. She looks back at the skein of yarn she is using. The yarn is almost gone. Faye also really needs to go use the privy. At least Missy is in here to keep an eye on things. That is the perk of having a helper in the nursery. Faye can leave to do things and not have to worry about Myranda sneaking in to do something to Mordred. 

Faye, looks over at Missy. “I need to use the privy and grab more yarn.” Faye simply says. “I will be back soon.” 

Missy nods as Faye leaves the room. Mordred, blinks as he sucks on his thumb. He is starting to feel a little better. 

Outside, Faye, breathes in deep as she looks around at the courtyard. Guards stand atop the guard towers, looking for danger. Servants chat pleasantly as they complete their chores. Many servants are headed into the kitchen to eat their midday meal. Faye, smiles to herself. All is peaceful. Faye, walks down the platform and heads straight for the servant’s privy. She walks into a secluded room and rings a bell. There is no answer. The privy is free to use. Faye, immediately walks over to the privy and pulls her skirts up. She sits down and quickly does her business. After she is done, she grabs a cloth and dries her vaginal area off. Faye, walks out of the privy and tosses the rag into a basket full of used rags. 

Faye makes her way back into the common area. The common area lies between the kitchen and the great hall. There is a little storage room off the common area that houses items such as yarn and prepared furs Faye peaks into the great hall as she passes by it. Lord Bolton is seated at the table. Three men sit at the table as well. The oldest of the three strange men has white-gray hair, a gray beard and gray mustache. All three of the strange men wear leather and fur clothing. The three men must be the Karstarks. Faye narrows her eyes. She doesn’t see Ramsay dining with Lord Bolton or the Karstarks. Where could the bastard be?

Just then, Lord Bolton’s favorite server girl walks up to Faye. The server girl is carrying a pitcher of mulled wine. “Lord Snow went hunting with Myranda.” The server girl says after she notices Faye’s look. 

Faye blinks a few times. _Hunting eh?_ Faye thinks to herself. _Well, that suits me just fine._

Faye, walks towards the storage room. She begins looking through the skeins of yarn, trying to find the right shade of gray. Faye, picks up a skein and looks closely at it. Yep, this looks like the right shade. Faye, then makes her way out of the storage room. She passes by the great hall again. Lord Bolton and Lord Karstark are engaged in a conversation. Faye then notices something. They are eating the cake that her mother made. 

“This cake is excellent, Lord Bolton.” Lord Karstark says. “Where is your cook? I must ask your cook how this cake was made so I can have my cook make one for me.” 

Faye smiles. Her mother was worried about nothing. However, just as Faye is about to head back out into the courtyard, the bells in the guard tower start ringing. Faye gasps and covers her mouth. A wildling attack! 

Lord Bolton and his guests stand up immediately. Just then, Gavyn bursts into the room. “Lord Bolton, we are under attack!” Gavyn says with wide eyes. “Wildlings have surrounded the castle!”

“How many are there?” Lord Bolton asks with a deathly voice. 

“A couple dozen at the very least.” Gavyn says. 

Lord Bolton nods and orders Locke to grab his sword. Lord Karstark looks at his sons. “Don’t just stand there!” Lord Karstark says with a demanding voice. “Go grab your swords and help defend Lord Bolton’s castle. The two of you have fought wildlings before!” 

Faye, doesn’t stay much longer. She rushes out of the common area and into the courtyard. In the courtyard, all hell has broken loose. Men rush towards the armory to grab weapons. Women run around and scream for their children. All over the tops of the guard towers, the guards prepare for the assault. Faye, rushes past the running guards and servants until she reaches the doorway that leads to the nursery. Faye, runs down the hallway until she reaches the nursery door. Faye, thrusts the door open and rushes inside. Missy, stands by the bed. The young girl’s eyes are wide. 

“Faye…,” Missy says with a hint of terror. “What is it?” 

“It’s another wildling attack!” Faye says very quickly. Faye, rushes over and takes Ailis out of her basket. “Quickly now, we must get into the crypts! I need you to help me carry Ailis.” 

Without another word, Faye, hands her baby girl to Missy. Faye then rushes over and picks up the whimpering Mordred. Faye, turns back to Missy. “Quickly now, follow me!” 

Missy whimpers a little. “Alright.” Missy says as she holds Ailis in her arms. 

Faye, then begins leading Missy through the hallway and to the doorway. However, once the two of them reach the platform, they gasp in utter disbelief. The gate is shuddering and cracking as if something is being rammed against it. The wildlings are trying to break down the gate! Lord Bolton, Lord Karstark and Lord Karstark’s sons both look at the gate with wide eyes. 

Lord Bolton’s eyes however, have a look of ‘really, those wildlings dare to try and break down my gate’. 

Wildlings suddenly appear at the top of the guard towers. The wildlings are scaling the wall! Flaming bows and arrows over the castle walls and land on the guard towers and the courtyard. Piles of hay begin catching fire all around the courtyard. 

Faye’s heart almost stops when she hears a horrible noise. Faye turns and almost screams. The wildlings have broken the gate down and are now pouring into the courtyard. Faye grabs Missy’s hand and rushes back into the hallway. There is no way they can make it to the crypts now. Faye pulls Missy back into the nursery and shuts the door behind her. 

“Faye, I’m scared.” Missy says with a whimper. 

“Shhh, don’t worry everything will be alright.” Faye says. She puts Mordred down in the cradle. Then, Faye takes Ailis from Missy and sets the baby girl down in the cradle behind Mordred. The two babes now sit together in the cradle. Mordred is at the front of the cradle, while Ailis is towards the back. Mordred and Ailis simply gurgle as they look up at Faye and Missy. 

Faye, then picks up the iron fire poker by the hearth. Faye, then turns to Missy and gestures towards the cradle. “Hunch over the cradle and cover Mordred and Ailis.” Faye says. 

Missy gulps a little. “Alright…,” Missy says tentatively. Missy gets down on her knees and uses her arms to cover the cradle and the babies. 

Just then, a banging noise can be heard down the hallway. Outside, the air is ripe with screams. Faye, grimaces and gets into a fighting position. The door is thrust open to reveal a man with black shaggy hair and a black shaggy beard. The man is wearing a simple outfit consisting of thick pants and a parka. The man is holding a bloody axe in his hands. 

Mordred, peeks out of the cradle at the man. It is the man from his nightmare!

The man lunges at Faye, who lets out a yell of ferocity and determination. Faye, manages to whack the man in the stomach with the iron poker. The man stumbles back. However, the man resumes his attack. Faye, keeps on whacking the man with the iron poker, while simultaneously dodging his axe. However, Faye ends up slipping on the fur rug and falls to the floor. Faye hits her head...hard. Faye subsequently falls unconscious. 

Missy’s eyes widen. “FAYE NO!” Missy screams. 

Mordred’s eyes widen as he watches the man stand over Faye’s unconscious form. The man readies his axe, preparing for the fatal blow. The memory of Lena’s screams as his father’s dogs ripped her apart suddenly fills Mordred’s mind. Something snaps within him. 

“No Mama!” Mordred cries out with a tiny voice. 

Missy gasps. The man looks from Faye to Missy and the babes in the cradle. For whatever reason, the man decides to leave Faye’s unconscious form on the floor. The man begins walking towards the cradle. Missy gasps with terror. The wildling is going to kill her and the babies first! However, a voice suddenly catches the man’s attention. Missy gasps as she looks up. It is Gavyn!

“GAVYN!” Missy screams. 

Gavyn, yells out in rage as he begins fighting the man. The man manages to whack Gavyn’s left shoulder which creates a deep bloody wound. Blood flies and hits Missy and the babies. The force of the whack is so great, Gavyn is sent flying back. Gavyn, falls near the cradle, hitting his head in the side of it. The force of the impact knocks him unconscious as well. 

“GAVYN!?” Missy cries out in disbelief at what just happened. Missy, trembles as she stares at her older brother’s blood. 

Mordred, lets out a cry as he looks at the blood on him. His nightmare is coming true. 

The strange man approaches the cradle again. He raises his axe, ready to strike down Missy, Mordred and Ailis. Missy, cries and holds her head down as she tries to shield Mordred and Ailis. This is it. Her and the babies are going to die. Faye and Gavyn will probably be next. 

As Mordred looks up at the man, something snaps within him. Without thinking more about it, Mordred, raises up his tiny hand which glows with power. The man just stares at the sight, his axe held in midair. Mordred then lets out a high pitched and angry sounding cry. _LEAVE US ALONE!_ Mordred screams in his head. Mordred, thrusts his hand forward. 

Then, just like magic, the man gasps as he goes flying backwards. The man flies straight out of the nursery and into the wall behind him. The man falls to the floor with a loud thud. Mordred grins with satisfaction. 

_That should teach him…,_ Mordred thinks triumphantly to himself. 

Missy looks up, shocked that she is still alive. Missy just stares at the sight of the man in the hallway, trying to regain his bearings. _What happened?_ Missy thinks as she watches the man just sit there and stare at Mordred in the cradle. _Why didn’t he kill us?_

Just then, another man comes into view. The man wears the exact same clothing as the first man. However, the new man has a reddish shaggy beard, a reddish beard and red shaggy hair. The man’s eyes are blue and wild looking. The black haired man frantically says something to the red haired man in a foreign tongue. The red haired man simply scoffs and walks into the nursery. Missy, gasps and stares as the man approaches her and the babies. The man raises his axe. 

Mordred, simply looks up at the man with an intense stare. _Leave us alone!_ Mordred thinks. 

Then, just like magic, the red haired man is sent flying back into the hallway. He collides with the black haired man. 

Missy, gasps. _What just happened?_ Missy thinks to herself. _How is that possible?_

The two strange men are now staring at Mordred, who stares back at them. The men speak to one another in a foreign tongue. Then, just like that, the two men flee, not looking back once. 

Mordred, grins a triumphant grin. _Bye-bye!_ Mordred thinks to himself. _And don’t think of coming back!_

Missy, trembles at her unbelievable luck. Gavyn and Faye then start to stir. Missy gasps and rushes over to Gavyn first. “Gavyn!” Missy cries. “You’re hurt!” 

Gavyn, slowly sits up. He clutches his bleeding shoulder. Faye, who is now fully awake, rushes over to Gavyn. “Your shoulder is bleeding pretty bad.” Faye says with a concerned voice. 

“I just can’t believe we are still alive.” Gavyn says. He turns to his younger sister. “Missy, what happened? How are all of us still alive?” 

Missy blinks a few times as she looks back at the cradle. “I don’t know…,” Missy says. “I was hunched over the cradle, trying to shield the babies like Faye told me to. The wildling with the black hair, he was prepared to kill us. I looked down, waiting for it...but it didn’t happen. I heard a thud and I looked to see the man in the hallway, as if some unseen force had thrown him back. Then, another wildling, this time with red hair arrived. The two wildlings shared some words, and then the red haired wildling came to kill us instead. Then, just like magic, the red haired wildling went flying back into the hallway. I’ve never seen anything like it!” 

Gavyn and Faye just look at one another. They are finding the story hard to believe. 

_So that’s what those two men are supposed to be called…,_ Mordred thinks. _Wildlings._

“The two wildlings just looked so shocked.” Missy says. “They exchanged a few more words and left. They practically ran away!” 

Missy then looks back over at Mordred and Ailis. Mordred, is still staring at the doorway. Mordred, almost seems to have a triumphant grin on his face. 

“The two wildlings just stared at Mordred...and Mordred just stared right back at them.” Missy says with wonder. 

Faye just shakes her head. “All I can say that we are lucky to be alive.” Faye says. She helps Gavyn to his feet. “I don’t hear anymore screams. I think the attack is over. Your brother needs help. Stay here with Mordred and Ailis.” 

Without another word, Faye helps Gavyn out of the nursery. Missy just looks at Mordred. Something really weird happened while her eyes were closed. But what?

Mordred then looks towards his basket of toys. His teeth hurt. He could use a date with his favorite teething toy. Mordred, holds his right hand out. The little wooden ring in the basket shifts until it is floating in the air. The wooden ring floats until it reaches the cradle. Mordred, reaches out and grabs the toy and starts chewing on it. Mordred, hears a gasp. He looks to see Missy staring wide eyed at him. Mordred, gulps a little. He forgot about Missy. 

“It was you!” Missy says awestruck. “You saved us from the wildlings!”

Missy steps back to ponder this revelation. Some of the things that have happened around the castle are starting to make sense. Objects seemingly being moved without a logical explanation or cause. Toys in the nursery being out of place. It’s been Mordred all along. However, Missy frowns when she thinks of something. If she tries to tell people about this, no one will believe her. Maybe it is best if she keeps this to herself. For the time being at least.

* * *

Night has fallen over the Dreadfort. Roose, frowns as he looks at the damage from the wildling attack. He lost fifteen men during this attack, and some of the women and children as well. Because the wildlings broke down the gate, at least half of the women and children within the castle were unable to make it into the crypts to safety. Even Mordred was almost killed. The great hall is filled with wounded guards and servants alike. Today has turned out to be a very bad day indeed.

Maester Wolkan stands to Roose’s right. Lord Karstark and Lord Karstarks sons stand close by. Lord Karstark, has a bandage wrapped around his leg. Lord Karstark’s oldest son, Harrion, has a bandage wrapped around his forehead. Torrhen, Lord Karstark’s second son, has a bandage wrapped around his right hand and left leg. Due to the injuries Lord Karstark and his heirs must stay at the Dreadfort until morning. Besides, two out of three of the guards that Lord Karstark brought with him were killed during the attack. With wildlings roaming the land it is much too dangerous to travel right now. 

Lord Bolton himself has a battle wound. A wildling managed to slice Roose’s left arm with an axe. However, Lord Bolton is not concerned about his wound right now. He is more concerned about the damage to his castle and how many lives were lost. 

Lord Karstark puts a hand on Roose’s shoulder. “Lord Bolton, I must write to my son Harald back at Karhold and tell him I will not be back tonight.” Lord Karstark says. “I—”

However, before Lord Karstark can say anymore, a bell near the entrance rings. Roose immediately turns to see Ramsay and Myranda walking through the now gateless entrance. Roose frowns intensely. It is about time his son showed up. 

Ramsay’s eyes are wide as saucers as he looks around at the damaged castle. “What happened to the castle?” Ramsay asks. “And what happened to the gate?” 

“Wildlings attacked the castle again.” Roose says with an irate voice. “Where were you?” 

Ramsay swallows hard. “Hunting with Myranda.” Ramsay says. 

Roose looks at Ramsay with eyes full of ire. “We lost fifteen men this time.” Roose says. “Women and children were also killed. You should have been here helping to defend the castle. But no, you were out hunting with your bed warmer. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

Ramsay looks down. Roose sighs. “We are done here.” Roose says. 

Roose, then walks away with Lord Karstark and his sons following close behind. Maester Wolkan just gives Ramsay a sympathetic glance before he leaves. Ramsay looks down. Even though Ramsay feels certain that he has lost his position to Mordred, he still had some hope that if he did his best to impress his father, that the Lord of the Dreadfort would change his mind. However, Ramsay feels like that is now a hopeless dream. 

“I really messed up Myranda.” Ramsay says. “Maybe my father is right. Maybe I am not cut out to be Lord of the Dreadfort.” 

Myranda puts a hand on Ramsay’s shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.” Myranda says soothingly. “You didn’t know that wildlings would attack the castle while we were gone.” 

Ramsay, blinks a few times. Myranda is right. There was no way of knowing this would happen. “But still, my father is angry that I wasn’t here to help defend the castle.” Ramsay says. “I am certainly going to have a very hard time gaining my father’s favor back after this.”

* * *

Faye, tearfully watches as Mara tends to Aldric. Aldric has fresh scars all over his body. Mara, tearfully wraps some more cloth around Aldric’s scars. “My poor husband.” Mara says. “If only you could see what those wildlings did to you.” 

Aldric, sighs. “Maester Wolkan says that I will be fine.” Aldric says. 

Faye, looks around the great hall. Ron, sits next to her. Ron, has a fresh scar on his right cheek. Ron, was ambushed by one of the wildlings and almost killed. It was thanks to one of Old Freya’s sons that Ron survived. However, Ron ended up receiving a scar on his cheek. Faye, is just so thankful that her family survived. Other families in the Dreadfort are not so lucky. Old Freya’s oldest son and two of her grandson’s died fighting the wildlings. Old Freya’s great-grandson lost his left ear fighting the wildlings. Acelyn’s husband and oldest son died fighting the wildlings. Bliss, lost her father and elder brother. Gavyn and Missy’s uncle, Barrons’s only brother, died fighting the wildlings as well. Barron’s brother was a widower with two young children, just nine and four years old. Gavyn’s parents now have to care for the two young orphans. 

Faye grimaces as she looks towards the kitchen. There is one death that the servants are not sad about. Betsey. The mean and greedy old Scullery maid. The attack happened during the midday meal. While the attack was happening, Betsey apparently used the chaos as an opportunity to sneak into the kitchen to get the last scrapings from the soup pot. It was in the kitchen where Betsey was ambushed by wildlings, and subsequently killed. The woman’s gluttony ended up being the death of her. Betsey’s own family aren’t even crying over her death. They found Betsey’s body near the soup pot, ladle in hand and soup in her mouth. Betsey’s children just shook their heads and agreed that their mother was an idiot for not running and hiding like all of the other women and children. 

Faye, then notices Missy walk up to her. Since Faye is having to help treat the wounded in the great hall, Missy has been looking after Mordred and Ailis for her. Missy, just blinks a few times. “I came to tell you that Mordred and Ailis both fell asleep a little bit ago.” Missy says. 

Faye sighs. “Good. Now hurry back to the nursery. I just heard that Ramsay and Myranda both returned from their hunt a few minutes ago. Best not give Myranda a chance to harm Mordred.” 

Missy nods solemnly. “Yes Faye, of course.” Missy says as she quickly dashes out of the great hall. 

Missy dashes through the courtyard until she reaches the platform. Missy then hops up the steps and dashes through the doorway. She opens the door to the nursery. Missy’s eyes widen at the sight of a stuffed bear made of rabbit fur floating towards the cradle. The toy drops into the cradle. Mordred lets out a squeal of delight. Missy approaches the cradle. Mordred is lying snuggled within blankets. Mordred’s face has been cleaned of Gavyn’s blood and his bloodied outfit has been put into a wash bucket. The blankets in the cradle have been removed and replaced with fresh new ones. The cradle has been scrubbed and wiped down. Luckily Mordred’s brand new rabbit skin blanket was being cleaned when the attack happened, so it wasn’t soiled with blood. Mordred giggles as he hugs the toy. He must have wanted a toy to snuggle with while he sleeps. 

Missy just stares wonderingly at little Mordred. _How do you do the things that you do?_ Missy wonders to herself. 

Missy then closes her eyes. Many of Old Freya’s stories mention magical abilities. Missy knows that deep down this is what she is witnessing. _Magic._ But, maesters like Maester Wolkan say that magic does not exist. 

_No one will believe me if I told them about this…,_ Missy thinks glumly to herself. _They will think I am just making things up. Then, I will get in trouble. I don’t want to get in trouble._

Suddenly, a voice comes from the doorway. “Why do you look so glum child?” The voice asks. 

Missy turns to see Old Freya standing in the doorway. Old Freya enters the nursery and approaches the cradle. “You have looked so troubled since the wildling attack my dear.” Old Freya says. “Tell me child, what is troubling you.” 

Missy just looks at the old servant. Old Freya says that she believes in the stories that she tells. Perhaps Old Freya will believe her about Mordred. 

“Old Freya…,” Missy begins. “I have something to tell you about Mordred. You see, after the attack, Faye and Gavyn left me alone with Mordred and Ailis. I witnessed something extraordinary.” 

“Something extraordinary child?” Old Freya asks curiously. “Child, please explain what you mean.” 

Missy takes a deep breath. “I was watching Mordred and he all of the sudden just lifted up his right hand like this…,” Missy says as she mimics the hand gesture that Mordred made. “And his favorite teething toy, a wooden ring just floated up right out of the basket. The ring floated through the air and right into Mordred’s hand.” 

Old Freya’s old wrinkled eyes widen considerably. “Child, are you saying that little Mordred possesses _magic_?” Old Freya asks. 

“It looked like magic to me.” Missy says. It sounds as if Old Freya believes her. “And think of this. Things within the castle have been mysteriously moved without an explanation. Toys in the nursery move without cause or explanation. Just think about it. It’s been little Mordred this whole time!” 

Old Freya closes her eyes. “Little Mordred having magic would certainly explain some of the happenings within the Dreadfort.” Old Freya says. 

“Mordred saved Ailis and I during the wildling attack!” Missy says. “I am almost certain of it. The first wildling appeared to have been thrown back by something. The second wildling _was_ thrown back by something. Mordred must have used his magic to throw the two wildlings away from us. No wonder the wildlings looked so shocked before they ran away.” 

Old Freya just looks down at Mordred in his cradle. “Hearing about it is one thing…,” Old Freya says. “Seeing it is another. Missy, do you think you can encourage Mordred to use his magic so that I can see for myself?” 

Missy, looks a little uncertain. “I can try.” Missy says. 

Missy looks inside the cradle. She comes up with an idea. She gently grabs the little stuffed toy that Mordred is hugging. Mordred, whimpers and reaches for it. 

“Mordred, Old Freya wants to see your special power.” Missy says. Missy holds the toy above Mordred. “I am going to put this back in the basket and all you need to do is make it float back into the cradle.” 

Missy, walks over to the basket and sets the toy back in the basket. Mordred, lifts up his right hand. The little stuffed bear floats right out of the basket. Freya’s eyes are wide as she watches the little toy float towards the cradle. Mordred, drops his tiny hand. The toy subsequently drops right into the cradle. Mordred giggles with delight. 

Missy turns to Old Freya. “Did you see that?!” Missy asks. 

Old Freya nods her head. “Yes, I certainly did.” Old Freya says with awe and wonder. 

After a few more minutes, Old Freya approaches the cradle. “Magic has returned to Westeros.” Old Freya says with a smile. “The little lad is certainly a special child, that is for sure. A true gift from the old gods.” 

However, Old Freya soon frowns and takes a deep breath. “However, I also fear that this is an omen.” Old Freya says. She looks over towards the windows. Night is starting to set in. “The old gods would not send such a special child for no reason. Winter is coming...a bad one. A very bad one.” 

Missy gasps a little as he starts to remember Old Freya’s story. “Old Freya, are you talking about the Long Night and the White Walkers?” Missy asks with some fear. 

Old Freya nods solemnly. “Yes, I fear that the Long Night is coming soon.” Old Freya says. “And when that day comes, we shall need Mordred’s magic to protect us from the White Walkers.” 

Missy shivers a little. Just the thought of the Long Night coming fills her with terror and dread. Old Freya turns back to Missy. “However, there isn’t much we can do right now.” Old Freya says. “Not many people believe in the story of the long Night. We will not be able to convince them of my premonition. All we can do is ensure that Mordred grows up into a strong child.”

Old Freya then turns back towards Mordred. “No one shall believe in Mordred’s magic without seeing it for themselves.” Old Freya says. Old Freya then turns back to Missy. “Child, have you told anyone about this?” 

Missy shakes her head. “No...only you.” Missy says. “I did tell Gavyn and Faye about the whole wildling incident, but it was obvious that they didn’t believe me. After I witnessed Mordred’s magic for myself, I knew no one would believe me, so I kept it to myself. You’re the only one I’ve told.” 

Old Freya nods. “No one shall believe me either.” Old Freya says sadly. “It is probably best if we keep this between the two of us for now. I am certain that Mordred’s magic will become more obvious as he grows.”

Old Freya sighs and turns back towards the door. “I must return to the great hall.” Old Freya says. She turns back to Missy and holds out her pinky. “Now, we must agree not to say anything about this to anyone else until Mordred reveals his magic to everyone.” 

Missy smiles. At least she has someone to confide in. Missy locks her pinky with Old Freya’s. “I promise.” Missy says. 

Old Freya smiles and retracts her pinky. The old woman then leaves the nursery, closing the door behind her. Missy turns back to Mordred in the cradle. Mordred is slowly starting to fall asleep. Missy frowns when she thinks of something. There is one nagging question in the back of her head. 

Just _how long_ will it take for Mordred to reveal his abilities to all within the castle? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? Just how long will Missy and Old Freya have to keep this secret? 

Mordred yawns in his cradle. Nearby, Ailis starts whimpering in her basket. Missy immediately heads over to comfort the baby girl. 

Outside the nursery, a dark figure stands outside the door. It is Myranda. Myranda didn’t really hear Missy and Old Freya’s conversation. However, The young woman can clearly hear Missy singing and humming to the babies. Myranda frowns intensely. _That wretched little girl is in there…,_ Myranda thinks to herself. _My plan won’t work if she is in there._

Myranda then looks at the dagger in her hand. Her plan was to sneak into the nursery and murder _both_ babes. Myranda was going to make it look as if a stray wildling scaled the wall, broke into the nursery through a window, and subsequently murdered both babes. A believable tragedy. However, with Missy in the room, things are now complicated. It is true that Myranda could also murder Missy, but the girl is likely to scream, which would alert people in the castle as to what is happening. Besides, if Missy was to fight Myranda, blood could platter onto Myranda’s clothes, which would implicate her in the murders. Then, Myranda would lose her head for sure. 

Myranda grimaces as she retreats back into the darkness of the hallway. _Consider yourself lucky little bastard._ Myranda thinks sourly to herself. _You get to live for now, but one day I will find a way to get rid of you for good. I promise you that much._


	9. The great gathering

Faye folds some baby diapers on the bed. Missy grabs some things from the chest. Tomorrow, Lord Bolton is leaving the Dreadfort to attend the gathering of the Northern lords at Winterfell. Much to Faye’s surprise, Lord Bolton declared that he was bringing Mordred with him. This means Faye and Ailis shall go to the gathering as well. When Faye asked Maester Wolkan about this, the wise maester said that even though Mordred is still a babe, Lord Bolton wants to observe the little lad’s interactions with the other Northern Lords and his reaction to a new environment. This is why Faye is looking at all of the baby supplies she has. She must decide what to take with her. Diapers for sure. There is moss drying by the hearth. The moss shall be packed into a cloth bag and placed into a metal and wooden trunk along with the other supplies. 

Missy then sets some toys In front of Faye. “These are Mordred’s favorite toys.” Missy says. “You should probably take these with you.” 

Faye looks at the toys that Missy has just handed her. Toys in noble houses often consist of little wooden carvings of animals that represent different attributes that all noble parents want in their children. The belief is that if the children play with these toys, they will take on the attributes from each animal represented. Sometimes the animals will be stuffed ones. The belief is the same though. If a babe cuddles with the toys, they will take on the attributes of the animals represented. Bears, direwolves, shadowcats and lions all represent strength, ferocity and hunting prowess. Horses represent speed, strength, stamina, and gracefulness. Foxes represent cunningness. Owls and ravens represent wiseness and intelligence. Since dogs have been loyal companion animals to men for as long as history has been recorded, dogs represent loyalty. Simple toys like hoops and metal rattles with the sigil of the noble house carved into them are supposed to represent honor and loyalty to one’s noble house. 

The collection of toys that Missy has handed Faye is varied. One of the toys is the little wooden hoop that Mordred always chews and sucks on. Faye looks closer at the hoop and realizes that the sigil of House Bolton is carved into the wood. The toy second is a stuffed bear made of rabbit fur. The third toy is a wooden ring with the head of a direwolf. There are two more similar rings. One ring bears the head of a horse. The other bears the head of a fox. Aside from the wooden toys and the stuffed bear, there are also two crocheted toys. One of the crocheted toys is a raven made of black yarn with two red button eyes sewn on. The other toy is a cat with a black body, white stripes, and yellow button eyes. It is a shadowcat. 

Faye sets the toys into the pile of baby things that she is going to take with her. “Thank you Missy.” Faye says. “Hopefully I will have room in the trunk for all of them.” 

Missy looks over towards the rug nearby. Ailis is playing on the fur rug. Mordred on the other hand, is waddling around the nursery. It has been two weeks since the wildling attack. Mordred is now a little over nine moons old. Mordred is already walking like an expert and he even runs sometimes. Mordred’s speech also seems to be developing rapidly. It just seems like Mordred learns to say a new word or two with each day that passes. Mordred also seems to be able to associate certain objects with words or actions. Missy watches as Mordred lets out a yawn and waddles over to the cradle. Faye turns and looks over towards the cradle. Mordred grabs the side of the cradle. “Nap.” Mordred says with a tiny voice.

Faye smiles and walks over to the cradle. Faye has learned that action usually means Mordred is ready for his nap. Faye picks Mordred up and ruffles his hair. “Ready for your nap eh?” Faye asks tenderly. Mordred responds by simply bobbing his little head up and down. Then Mordred looks over to the pile of toys on the bed. Mordred points to the pile. “Wan!” Mordred says. "Wan.” 

Faye and Missy look at the toys. It’s almost like Mordred is saying ‘want’. “I think he wants one of the toys to cuddle with while he sleeps.” Missy says. She takes the bear, raven and shadowcat out of the pile. Missy sets each toy apart on the bed. “Which one Mordred?” 

Mordred’s eyes start darting back and forth between the three toys. Mordred points to the crocheted shadowcat. “Wan!” Mordred says. 

Missy smiles and grabs the shadowcat. Faye carries Mordred over to the cradle and sets him down in the cradle. Missy, hands Mordred the crocheted shadowcat. Faye just smiles and covers Mordred up with his blanket. Just then, Ailis yawns. Faye walks over to the rug and picks her daughter up. Faye wraps Ailis up in her blanket. Faye sets Ailis into her basket. Faye turns back to Missy. “Alright, since Mordred and Ailis are both down for their naps, we can get back to work.” Faye says. 

Without another word, Faye walks back over to the bed. Missy just blinks and returns to helping Faye pack for the trip tomorrow. Missy and Old Freya have kept Mordred’s magic a secret for the past two weeks. There have been times when Faye has left the room and nearly discovered Mordred’s magic upon returning. If the woman had just returned moments sooner, she would have caught Mordred using his magic. There have even been times when Faye has turned her back and Mordred uses his magic. If Faye had just turned around moments sooner she would have witnessed Mordred’s magic for herself. Strange things keep happening in the Dreadfort as well. Objects will appear to have moved without cause or reason. Toys in the nursery are out of place. Many servants are even starting to say that the Dreadfort is  _ haunted _ . Missy knows that it is Mordred who is causing these strange occurrences. The young girl has found it incredibly hard to keep Mordred’s magic a secret these past two weeks, but she knows deep down that no one will believe her. This is why Missy has kept her lips sealed on the subject. 

Inside his cradle, Mordred sucks his thumb. He is actually excited to be going to Winterfell. He hasn’t left the Dreadfort since he got here. Going to another castle shall be a new experience for him. This is also giving Mordred an opportunity to get back at his father. Last night Mordred overheard Faye and Mara talking about his position within the Dreadfort. Mara told her daughter that Lord Bolton taking Mordred to the gathering is a sign that the Lord of the Dreadfort is seriously considering making Mordred his heir instead of Ramsay. Mordred wouldn’t mind becoming Lord of the Dreadfort when he grows up. This would give him a place and purpose within his new world. Mordred blinks a few times as he turns in his cradle. Besides, if he was to become lord of the Dreadfort, then his father would  _ lose _ out on becoming lord of the Dreadfort.  _ If I become lord of the Dreadfort, then that means father shall never become Lord of the Dreadfort. _ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Just then, Bliss comes into the room with a bucket of water. Bliss empties the cauldron of now dirty water out the window. Bliss quickly empties the bucket of clean water into the cauldron. Faye soon notices Bliss’s look. “What’s wrong?” Faye asks with a raised brow. 

Bliss just sighs. “I just found out that Myranda is going as well.” Bliss says. 

Faye gasps and hangs her head down. “Oh no, not Myranda!” Faye exclaims. 

Inside his cradle, Mordred frowns.  _ No, I hate Myranda! _ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Lord Bolton had declared that Ramsay was going as well. According to Maester Wolkan, Lord Bolton said that if Ramsay truly wants to be his heir, then Ramsay needs to learn how to deal with the other Northern Lords. Hopefully Ramsay does not embarrass Lord Bolton at the gathering. The last thing Faye, the guards and other servants need is for Lord Bolton to be in a foul mood on the journey home tomorrow. It is customary for the Lords to bring their favorite servants to the gathering so that the servants can tend to their needs during their stay. Faye shall wear Mordred in a sling while she rides in a wagon. The guards escorting Lord Bolton shall sleep in tents, so the wagon is needed to transport the supplies for the tents. The trunk with the baby supplies shall also be transported using the wagon. Bliss shall be going to the gathering as well so that she can hold Ailis for Faye. Lord Bolton’s favorite server girl, Gale shall be going to the gathering as well. But seriously...Myranda?

“Of all the servant girls in the castle, why Myranda?” Faye asks with some annoyance. 

Bliss just throws her hands up and shrugs. “Ramsay wants her to go so that he can have ‘fun’ while at Winterfell.” 

Faye sighs. She continues to sort out the baby things in front of her. “Of course.” Faye says. “Ramsay doesn’t care about Mordred. Lord Snow wouldn’t care if Myranda hurt the little lad.” 

“Try not to be too worried about Myranda.” Bliss says soothingly. “There shall be other lords present and many other servants. I don’t think Myranda would have the opportunity to harm Mordred.” 

“One can only hope.” Faye says with a sigh. “I will just have to keep an extra close eye on Mordred.” 

Mordred just blinks a few times. He is not going to let Myranda’s presence at the gathering deter him from his new mission. He has learned to walk and talk. Now it is time to put his  _ uniqueness _ to use. Tomorrow shall be Mordred’s time to shine.  _ Father, you stole my real mama from me. _ Mordred thinks to himself.  _ So I am going to steal your position as heir of the Dreadfort from you. I am going to make sure that you never become the next Lord Bolton. _

* * *

Faye and Bliss both stand by the bed and tie linen slings around their upper bodies. It is time to go to the gathering at Winterfell. Right now, the two women need to get the babes settled into the slings. Bliss picks Ailis up and sets the babe into her sling. Faye picks Mordred up and carefully places him into the sling. Just then, Gavyn comes into the room. “Lord Bolton sent me to collect the trunk.” Gavyn says. 

Faye points to the bed. On the bed lies a metal and wooden trunk. “It is packed and ready to go.” Faye says. Says. Gavyn nods and picks up the trunk. Faye and Bliss quickly follow Gavyn out the door. Gavyn and the two women walk down the hallway until they reach the platform that leads down into the courtyard. Faye and Bliss silently descend the steps behind Gavyn and approach the waiting wagon. Gavyn carefully places the trunk into the wagon. Aldric and Ron are busy brushing down the horses. Aldric sets down his supplies and quickly helps Faye and Bliss into the wagon. Gavyn gets up onto the seat and grabs the reins of the horses. “I shall be driving the wagon.” Gavyn says. “I hope the two of you don’t mind.” 

“Oh no, of course we don’t mind.” Bliss says. “We trust that you will drive us safely to Winterfell.” 

Faye looks towards the now repaired gate. Lord Bolton is already mounted on his horse. Lord Bolton’s horse has been thoroughly brushed down. Lord Bolton is also wearing his best leathers and furs. Nearby, Ramsay is mounted on his personal stallion, Blood. Ramsay is also wearing his best leathers and furs. Next to Ramsay, Myranda is also mounted on a horse. Next to Lord Bolton, Locke is mounted on his own horse. Steelshanks, one of Lord Bolton’s best guards, is also mounted on a horse. Gale and another guard are also mounted on horses. Gale, is a pretty young black haired woman with bright blue eyes. The guard is someone that Faye recognizes, and is pleased to see. The man is Calin, Old Freya’s youngest grandson. Calin is a middle aged man with dark brown hair and light grey eyes. Calin is very proficient and skilled at using a sword, which is why Lord Bolton favors Calin as a guard. Calin’s sword skills have earned him the name ‘Calin Swift Sword’ by the other guards. 

Myranda looks towards Faye, Bliss and the babes. Myranda just gives Faye an evil look. Aldric notices the look and sends a scowl towards Myranda. Myranda turns around and engages in a conversation with Ramsay. Aldric looks up at his distressed daughter. “Try not to let her trouble you too much.” Aldric says with a whisper. “I doubt she could get the chance to harm the little lad at Winterfell.” 

“One can only hope.” Faye whispers back. “I am just going to keep an extra special eye on Mordred just to be safe.” 

Lord Bolton looks around to make sure that everything is in order before he leaves. Maester Wolkan stands nearby. “Have a safe trip milord!” Maester Wolkan calls out to his lord. Lord Bolton simply nods in return and looks up towards the guards manning the gate. “Open the gate!” Lord Bolton demands. 

The gate opens moments later. Lord Bolton begins leading his contingent out of the castle. Gavyn snaps the reins and commands the horses to go. Mordred and Ailis both whimper from the sudden movement. Faye rocks Mordred within the sling. “There...there…,” Faye says soothingly. “Just go to sleep. We shall reach Winterfell before you know it.”

* * *

Lord Bolton looks up towards the horizon. The great castle of Winterfell is now in sight. The Lords Karstark and Umber ride to Roose’s right. Lord Hornwood rides to Roose’s left. Roose’s contingent met up with the Karstark, Umber and Hornwood contingents a little while ago. Together, they all crossed the White Knife river. Now, their destination is in sight. 

Lord Hornwood smiles as he takes in the sight before him. “Ah, we are almost there.” Lord Hornwood says with a jubilant voice. 

Greatjon Umber and his heir Smalljon Umber ride side by side. Smalljon’s young son, Ned Umber is seated just in front of his father’s saddle. Little Ned giggles and points to the castle ahead of them. “Castle!” Little Ned says. Smalljon just laughs. “Yes my boy, that is Winterfell.” Smalljon says. 

In the wagon, Faye and Bliss look at the upcoming castle with awe. “So that is Winterfell.” Bliss says with some awe. “It is certainly a big castle.” 

“Yes it is.” Faye agrees. “I can imagine just what it is like on the inside.” 

Inside Faye’s sling, Mordred sleeps soundly. He twitches as a slight breeze hits his cheek. Faye looks down. Mordred slept the entire trip. Hopefully he will be ready to wake up soon.

* * *

Catelyn Stark looks around at the hurrying servants. Servants carry hay and buckets of water to the horse troughs. The horses belonging to the coming lords and their contingents will be hungry and thirsty after their journey. It is imperative that there is water in the trough for them. The gathering of the Northern Lords is always a busy time of year for the Starks and their servants. Guest chambers must be cleaned out for the Stark’s guests. The stables must be prepared for the visiting lords horses. Food must be prepared. This year, due to the rabbit problem, the Stark’s traded and sold much more rabbit furs than in previous years. The little bit of extra money and supplies means that the Stark’s will be able to put out a more opulent feast than in previous years. Catelyn just wants everything to go extremely well. Just then, Maester Luwin approaches Catelyn. Winterfell’s wise maester bows slightly before he addresses her. “Milady, I hear from the cook that the bread for the midday meal is baked and ready for our guests. The kettle of rabbit stew is perfectly seasoned and bubbling over the fire.” 

Catelyn nods to Winterfell’s Maester. “Thank you Maester Luwin.” Catelyn says respectfully. 

Just then, the voice of her eight year old son Bran catches her attention. The Lady Stark looks up to see her son climbing down the walls of a tower. Catelyn frowns instantly. “Brandon!” Catelyn says harshly. “I have told you not to climb the walls!” 

Bran reaches the ground and runs up to his mother. “But mother…,” Bran says with an excited voice. “The Boltons, Karstarks, Umbers and Hornwoods are nearing Winterfell!” 

Catelyn looks her son in the eyes. “Brandon, you need to promise me that you will not climb those walls again. Understood?” 

Bran looks at his feet. “I promise.” Bran says with a small voice. 

Catelyn just closes her eyes. She can tell that her son isn’t really making any promises. However, she will take her son’s false promise. For now anyway. She can deal with him later. Right now, it is imperative that her husband knows of the coming visitors. “Run along and find your father.” Catelyn says. “Let him know that the Bolton’s, Karstarks, Hornwoods and Umbers are nearing Winterfell.” 

Bran nods eagerly. “Yes mother!” Bran says before he runs off to find his father. 

Inside the stables, Lord Ned Stark looks around at the now cleaned stables. The empty stalls must be cleaned for his guests' personal horses. Just then, his son Bran runs up to him. “Father!” Bran says excitedly. “The Boltons, Karstarks, Hornwoods and Umbers are nearing Winterfell.” 

Lord Stark nods and follows his son out the stables. By the time the two of them reach the courtyard, the Karstarks contingent is already coming through the gate. Ned goes to stand beside his wife. Lord Karstark smiles as he dismounts his horse and walks up to Ned and Catelyn. “Lord Stark…,” Lord Karstark says as he addresses Ned. “Lady Stark. It is good to see the two of you in good health.” 

“Thank you Lord Karstark.” Ned says respectfully. 

As the two lords exchange their formalities, Catelyn looks around. She sees Lord Karstark’s three sons, and his young granddaughter, but not his wife or good-daughter. “I don’t see your wife or Harald’s wife anywhere.” Catelyn says when Lord Karstark turns to exchange formalities with her. “Did the two of them decide not to come this year?” 

Lord Karstark simply shakes his head. “Aye, neither of them were up to it this year.” Lord Karstark says. Lord Karstark turns to a Karstark soldier. “Make sure that the horses are watered and fed. Take my horse along with my sons and granddaughter’s horses to the stables.” 

The Karstark soldier nods and takes the reins of Lord Karstark’s horse. Harrion, Torrhen, Harald, and little Alys hand off their horses to the soldier as well. Other soldiers dismount their horses and begin taking things out of a horse drawn wagon. Lord Bolton’s contingent is behind Lord Karstarks contingent. Lord Bolton and his bastard, Ramsay Snow dismount their horses and approach Ned. Ned can see that the Bolton’s contingent consists of a wagon. Two women holding babes sit in the wagon. Ned raises a brow as he watches a Bolton guard help the two women out of the wagon. Lord Bolton approaches Ned and bows to his liege lord. “Lord Stark...Lady Stark.” Roose says with an unemotional voice. “I see that the two of you are in good health.” 

Ned simply blinks a few times. “I see that you are in good health as well Lord Bolton.” Ned says. Ned gestures towards the wagon. “I see that your contingent is larger this year.” 

Roose looks back towards the wagon and two women. “I have brought Ramsay’s little bastard along with his wetnurse.” Roose says. 

Ned raises a brow. He does remember briefly seeing the child when he went to the Dreadfort to collect his taxes. However, Ned didn’t think that Roose would bring the child to the gathering. Catelyn narrows her eyes as she looks at the two women and the babes. Lord Bolton actually brought a bastard babe to the gathering? 

Faye and Bliss both look on in awe as they carry Mordred and Ailis over to where Lord Bolton is. “Faye, this is Lord Eddard Stark and his wife, the Lady Catelyn Stark.” Roose says. 

Faye immediately bows. “Pleased to meet you Lord Stark...Lady Stark.” Faye says. “My name is Faye. I am little Mordred’s wetnurse.” 

Catelyn raises a brow. “Mordred? What an unusual name.” Catelyn says. She leans in closer. “Might I see him?” 

Faye nods eagerly and shifts the bundle in her arms. Catelyn catches a glimpse of Mordred’s face. Mordred, twitches slightly in his blanket. Then, the babe’s eyes slowly flicker open. Catelyn just stares at Mordred’s pale eyes. “The babe does have Bolton eyes.” Catelyn admits.

Mordred just blinks as he looks between Ned and Catelyn. Mordred recognizes Lord Stark from when the latter came to collect taxes from his grandfather. The beautiful red auburn haired woman beside Lord Stark must be Lady Catelyn Stark. Mordred knows that in order to be accepted as the future Lord of the Dreadfort by the other Northern Lords, he must build good relationships with them. Now is his chance to impress the Warden of the North.“Hello.” Mordred says clear as day as he looks at Ned and Catelyn. 

Both Ned and Catelyn’s eyes widen in surprise. Just how old is this child? “Lord Bolton, might I ask just how old your grandson is supposed to be?” Ned asks. 

“Just a little over nine moons.” Roose says. “He actually said his first word two weeks ago.” 

Ned narrows his eyes a little. “In all my life I have never heard of a babe speaking at eight moons old.” Ned says. “Quite impressive for a babe. So the child talked before he walked?” 

“Actually…,” Roose says, trying to hide the pride in his voice. “The lad learned to walk the same day he learned to talk.” 

Ned’s eyes widen considerably. “I have never heard of a babe learning to walk at eight moons either.” Ned says with some surprise. 

Mordred manages a smile. He can tell that Lord Stark is impressed.  _ So far so good…, _ Mordred thinks to himself. Nearby, Ramsay shudders a little. His little bastard impressed the Warden of the North just by saying a simple word. It’s almost as if the child is  _ trying _ to steal his position now. 

Catelyn just blinks a few times. She looks at Roose. “You said this woman is the child’s wetnurse. Where is the mother?” Lady Catelyn asks curiously. 

“Dead.” Roose says with no emotion. “My son says that she was just some Northern bastard girl that he bedded once. Ramsay brought Mordred to the Dreadfort when the child was just a week old. According to Ramsay, he was hunting when he came across the girl just walking down the road with the babe in her arms. The girl looked to be sick. She handed Mordred to Ramsay, saying that the child was his son. Then, the girl just collapsed and died. My son says he buried the girl in the forest.” 

Catelyn narrows her eyes at the strange story. What kind of woman takes a babe, and walks down a road while deathly ill? The story doesn’t make sense. Ned also narrows his eyes. He is finding the strange story hard to believe as well. Just then, a bell rings. Two contingents suddenly arrive through the gates. Ramsay’s eyes widen. It is the Lady Barbery Dustin’s contingent, along with Lord Rodrik Ryswell’s contingent. Great, now he has to deal with his late half-brother’s aunt and grandfather. 

Lord Rodrik dismounts his horse and approaches Lord Stark. Lady Dustin does the same. Lord Ryswell bows as does Lady Dustin. “Lord Stark, a pleasure to see you.” Lord Ryswell says. “You as well Lady Stark.” 

Ned returns to his stoic self. No time to think more about the strange story. He has guests to greet. “It is good to see you as well, Lord Ryswell.” Ned says. He turns to Lady Dustin. “Lady Dustin, a pleasure to see you as well.” 

Lady Dustin just looks at Ned and Catelyn with an unemotional look. “You as well...Lord Stark...Lady Stark.” Lady Dustin says with a stiff and unemotional voice. 

Both Lady Dustin and Lord Ryswell both turn to Roose. “Hello Lord Bolton.” Lord Ryswell says. “I see that you brought your bastard with you.” However, Lord Ryswell then turns to see Faye with baby Mordred. Lord Ryswell narrows his eyes when he notices Mordred’s pale eyes. “Lord Bolton, who is this babe?” Lord Ryswell asks. “You didn’t father another bastard did you?” 

Lady Dustin however, can tell just who the pale eyed babe’s sire truly is. It is Ramsay. Lady Dustin narrows her eyes.  _ So Roose’s bastard fathered a bastard of his own..., _ Lady Dustin thinks to herself.  _ An interesting development indeed. _

“No, he is Ramsay’s bastard son.” Roose says. “His name is Mordred.” 

Lord Ryswell just looks at baby Mordred. “So, you have a grandson now Lord Bolton.” Lord Ryswell states more than asks. “Just how old is he supposed to be?” 

“Just over nine moons now.” Roose simply says. 

Mordred simply looks at Lady Dustin and Lord Ryswell. He can sense animosity coming off of these two. For whatever reason, this Lord and Lady don’t seem to like him very much. 

Lord Ryswell backs away and just blinks. “Aye, the babe has the same pale eyes as you, your bastard...and my dear late grandson, Domeric.” Lord Ryswell says. 

Lady Dustin frowns as she looks at her father. “Don’t get me started on poor Domeric father.” Lady Dustin says. “I still grieve after all these years.” 

Mordred blinks a few times. It finally makes sense to him. These people are family to his late half-uncle, Domeric. The one that his father supposedly poisoned. No wonder these people don’t like him.  _ I am probably not going to get anywhere with these two…, _ Mordred thinks to himself.  _ However, it is worth a shot I suppose. _ “Hello.” Mordred says clear as day. 

The eyes of both Lord Ryswell and Lady Dustin widen considerably. “Seven hells, the babe spoke!” Lord Ryswell says. “He’s only nine moons old!” 

“Actually, he said his first wood two weeks ago.” Roose says. “And he also learned to walk.” 

Lord Ryswell’s eyes widen again. “Seven hells, the babe walked and spoke at eight moons old!?” Lord Ryswell says. “That is quite impressive for a babe.” 

Roose simply nods. “It is. If the boy keeps developing like this, I may have to reconsider his bastard position.” Roose says. 

Ramsay shudders a little. He just wishes that his father would stop saying that. It just makes his future seem even more uncertain. Lady Dustin notices Ramsay’s look and uncomfortableness. In spite of herself, Lady Dustin manages to smirk in Ramsay’s direction. _You don’t like that do you bastard…,_ Lady Dustin thinks sarcastically to herself. _You know that you may lose your position as Roose’s heir to your own bastard son._ _That is what you get for murdering my dear nephew._

It would be a victory for Lady Dustin and her family if Ramsay was to lose his position as heir of the Dreadfort. Even if Mordred is Ramsay’s son, Lady Dustin would rather prefer that Mordred become lord of the Dreadfort instead of Ramsay. Lady Dustin hates the thought of Ramsay being legitimized and becoming the next Lord Bolton, when her own dear trueborn nephew lies buried underneath the Dreadfort. It would be divine justice if Ramsay was to lose his chance to become Lord Bolton to his own son.

* * *

Roose and Ramsay sit at a table in Winterfell’s great hall. After all of the northern lords arrived at Winterfell, everyone gathered inside the great hall to officially begin the gathering. Lord Stark shared salt and bread with everyone, officially giving Roose, Ramsay, the Northern Lords and ladies and even their servants guest right. Now it is time for the midday meal. A midday meal of bread, cheese, hearty meat stew, ale and wine is customary during the gathering of the Northern Lords. The meat in the stew varies year to year, depending on what is plentiful. This year...it is rabbit and root vegetable stew. 

Ramsay sits across from Roose. Ramsay is eating his stew. “This is good stew.” Ramsay says with food still in his mouth. Ramsay then turns to Myranda, who is sitting next to him. “Myranda, what do you think of Winterfell so far?” Ramsay asks. 

Myranda blinks as she looks up from her own stew. “Winterfell is big.” Myranda says. “It will be hard to find a good place to have some ‘fun’ together.” 

Roose frowns. Ramsay and Myranda have been flirting with each other ever since the midday meal began. The two of them have been making vulgar jokes about where they can have sex in Winterfell, which irritates Roose to no end. Roose then looks over at his grandson. Mordred is sitting in Faye’s lap nearby. Faye offers Mordred cooked rabbit meat from her own stew. Mordred eagerly takes the meat into his mouth and slowly chews. Mordred swallows and holds his hand out towards the bowl, signaling that he wants more. Mordred is being so good, he hasn’t even gotten a speck of food on him. Roose frowns at the sight of Ramsay sploshing soup as he eats. Even Mordred, who is just a babe, has better table manners than Ramsay. Even Faye’s own babe has better table manners than Ramsay. The baby girl is currently sitting on Bliss’s lap, eating little bits of stew, just like Mordred. 

Lord Karstark and his family sit close by. Lord Karstark frowns at Ramsay’s bad table manners. “Lord Bolton, your bastard has very questionable table manners.” Lord Karstark says with some ire. 

“The boy is practically inhaling his food!” Lord Greatjon Umber who is sitting close by declares. “Even the bastard’s own babe has better table manners than him.” 

Roose sips some of his mulled wine. “Lord Karstark. Lord Umber...I do apologize for my son’s terrible table manners. I blame his lowborn mother for that.” 

Faye and Bliss share a glance with one another. Faye feared that this would happen. Ramsay is embarrassing his father. It seems likely that lord Bolton will be in a foul mood tomorrow when it is time to leave. Mordred on the other hand, feels like grinning to himself. _Father is embarrassing grandfather in front of the other Northern Lords._ Mordred thinks to himself. _This is making it more likely that grandfather will choose me as his heir and not my father._ _And_ _since the other Northern Lords see my father’s bad qualities, they will likely support me over my father as heir of the Dreadfort._ Mordred grins even more when he comes up with a brilliant idea. He will _call_ his father out on his bad behavior. Mordred raises his hand and points to Ramsay, who is still eating like a pig. “Bad da.” Mordred says. 

Faye and Bliss gasp as they both look at Mordred. Roose, Lord Karstark, Lord Umber and Lord Hornwood just look at baby Mordred. Lord Hornwood lets out a snicker as he realizes what the baby just said. “Lord Bolton, your grandson just called out your bastard on his bad manners.” Lord Hornwood says with a laugh. 

Lord Greatjon Umber just laughs as well. “That’s what it sounded like to me.” Lord Umber says. 

Roose simply looks at Ramsay. Even Mordred knows that his father has bad table manners. “Ramsay, your own son has just pointed out your terrible table manners.” Roose says as he tries to hide the amusement in his voice. 

Ramsay just gives Mordred a look of ire.  _ Great, now the little bastard is calling out my bad qualities. _ Ramsay thinks to himself.  _ He is embarrassing me in front of everyone. _ Ramsay blinks as he turns away from Mordred. He looks over towards a table on the other side of the room. A fierce looking woman with dark hair, grayish eyes and a strong build sits at the table. A young girl with red tinted light brown and grayish eyes sits next to the woman. Ramsay raises a brow and points to the table. “Father, who is that woman with the young girl?” Ramsay asks. 

Roose narrows his eyes as he follows Ramsay’s finger. His son better not make a smart remark about Lady Maege Mormont. “That is Lady Maege Mormont.” Roose says simply. “She is the ruler of Bear Island. The girl is her daughter and heir, Lyanna Mormont.” 

Ramsay starts laughing a little. “Bear Island is ruled by a  _ woman _ !” Ramsay says. “If Bear Island is ruled by a woman, Then the people of Bear Island must be weaklings.” 

Roose pales just a little. Lord Karstark, Lord Umber and Lord Hornwood all look at Ramsay with some ire. Faye and Bliss both gasp a little and glance at each other. Did Ramsay really just say that? Mordred just blinks a few times.  _ Such a rude remark. _ Mordred thinks to himself. Mordred raises up his hand again and points to Ramsay. “Bad da!” Mordred says. 

No one laughs. Everyone just glances at Lady Mormont’s table. Lady Mormont is looking right at Ramsay with a steely face full of ire. Lady Mormont clearly heard Ramsay’s comment. 

Roose narrows his eyes and turns back to Ramsay. “Watch what you say around Lady Mormont.” Roose says with a deathly voice. “House Mormont’s sigil is not a bear for nothing. All Mormont men  _ and _ women are warriors in their own right. Lady Maege Mormont is no exception.” 

Lady Mormont suddenly stands up. Everyone in the room goes silent. Lady Mormont then looks towards Lord Stark, who is seated at the head table with Lady Catelyn, his children, and Winterfell’s Maester. “Lord Stark, I have a complaint to make against Lord Bolton’s bastard son.” Lady Mormont says with a calm voice. However, there is a tinge of ire to Lady Mormont’s voice. 

Ned raises a brow as he looks at the fierce ruler of Bear Island. “What is it, Lady Mormont?” Ned asks with a calm voice. 

Lady Mormont clears her throat. “I was just enjoying a conversation with my daughter, when I heard Lord Bolton’s bastard make an offensive comment about my status as Lady of Bear island. The bastard said that ‘If Bear Island is ruled by a woman, Then the people of Bear Island must be weaklings’.” Lady Mormont says with a voice full of ire. 

Many of the lords in the room gasp and just look towards Roose’s table with disbelief. Roose simply takes a sip of his wine. “I apologize for my bastard’s offensive comment, lady Mormont.” Roose says. “I am afraid that my boy has no manners. I blame his lowborn mother for that.” 

Roose turns back to Ramsay. “Remember, the gathering of the Northern Lords has a purpose.” Roose says. “To you it may seem like a time to just eat, drink and whore. The lords of the North gather at Winterfell to discuss problems that have come up in the past year. Serious discussions happen during this time.” 

Ramsay simply gulps down some more wine. Roose frowns and gestures towards Mordred who is seated in Faye’s lap. “And remember, I do have another choice for heir.” Roose says with a deathly voice. 

Ramsay narrows his eyes and looks down at his bowl. However, Lord Portan starts laughing. “Choosing a bastard grandson over your own bastard son, Lord Bolton?!” Lord Portan says as he laughs. “The child is just a babe. What is so special about the child anyway?” 

Roose gestures for Faye to take Mordred out into the middle of the room. Faye, gets up and carries Mordred into the middle of the room. She sets him on the floor. Mordred immediately gets up and begins waddling around. Now is his time to shine. Mordred thinks of something to say. He turns and looks at Roose. “Grand-da.” Mordred says with his tiny voice. 

Many of the lords in the great hall gasp. “Seven Hells, the babe can talk!” Lord Portan says. “Just how old is he?!” 

Roose takes another sip of his wine. “Just over nine moons old. Actually, the boy has been walking and talking for two weeks now.” Roose says. 

Lord Glover nearly chokes on his wine. Many of the lords and ladies begin whispering to each other. 

“Mordred arrived at the Dreadfort when he was a week old.” Roose says. “Ever since then he has been advanced in his development. Mordred wasn’t even three moons old when he learned to roll over. In fact, he learned to roll over from his belly to his back  _ and _ from his back to his belly.” 

Many of the lords in the room gasp. Lord Portan just scoffs. “That is impossible!” Lord Portan says. 

Roose looks up from wine. “Why would I lie about such a thing?” Roose asks. 

Many of the lords look at Lord Portan, expecting an answer to that question. Lord Portan looks away. He has no response to that question. Roose sips some more of his wine. “Everything I speak is the truth.” Roose says. “My grandson learned to crawl even before he was six moons old. Right when he turned six moons old, he learned to sit up on his own. The lad stood up on his own two feet when he was only eight and a half moons old. Then, exactly a week later the boy began walking...and he also said his first word.” 

Lord Glover gasps and sets his wine goblet down. “Seven hells, my own children didn’t say their first words until they were all ten moons old!” Lord Glover says with shock and surprise. “They also didn’t start walking until they were eleven moons old.” 

Roose looks up from his goblet. “All I can say is that my grandson is an extraordinary child.” Roose says. “I can just imagine what he shall grow up to be.” 

Many of the Lords and Ladies in the Great hall look at one another. Mordred grins as he waddles around the middle of the room. These lords and ladies certainly seem impressed with his achievements. Right now, things are going well. Lady Mormont clears her throat. “Lord Bolton, might I ask the identity of the mother?” Lady Mormont asks. 

Roose frowns a little as he looks over to the table where the Cerwyn’s are seated. He knew that question would come up eventually. “My son says that the mother was a Northern bastard girl that he bedded once. According to my son, her name was Lena Snow.” Roose says. 

Lord Medger Cerwyn’s younger brother Arric, almost chokes on his wine. All of the lords and ladies in the room turn to look at the Cerwyns. Medger simply looks back and forth between his brother and baby Mordred. “Brother, didn’t you father a bastard girl by that name?” Lord Medger asks. 

Arric merely nods as he sets down his wine goblet. Many of the lords and ladies in the room gasp and start whispering to each other. Arric looks at Roose. “Lord Bolton, where is my daughter?” Arric asks with a tense voice. “I heard you say that the girl caring for the babe is just a wetnurse. Why isn’t my daughter caring for the boy?” 

Roose sips some of his wine. “According to my son, my grandson’s mother is dead.” Roose says. “The story he gave me was that he came across the girl while he was out hunting. The girl was just walking down the road, the babe in her arms, and she looked half sick. The girl recognized Ramsay and handed Mordred off to him, saying that the babe was his son. Then, the girl just collapsed and died. Ramsay buried her in the forest.” 

Everyone looks at the Cerwyns. Arric simply looks down. Lady Dustin just looks at Ramsay with narrowed eyes. What kind of person takes a babe on a trip while sick and dying? The story doesn’t make sense at all.  _ I’ll bet the bastard killed the babe’s mother…, _ Lady Dustin thinks sourly to herself.  _ The bastard killed my dear nephew. I wouldn’t put it past him to have murdered his bastard son’s mother. _ Lady Dustin closes her eyes. If Roose’s bastard did kill the babe’s mother, then he is a true psychopath. Even more reason for the bastard not to inherit the Dreadfort. He would probably run the castle into the ground within a year.

* * *

Myranda passes by Winterfell’s kitchen. Kitchen servants are slaving away by the hearths and tables. The feast shall take place very soon. Right now, Ramsay and Lord Bolton are in the great hall, discussing important matters with the other Northern Lords. Myranda and all of the other servants within the great hall were kicked out and left to simply enjoy themselves. However, the little bastard got to stay. Myranda clenches her fists. Oh how this infuriates her!  _ I have to get rid of the little bastard, _ Myranda thinks to herself.  _ But how? _

Myranda then notices something by the doorway. Baskets full of root vegetable peelings sit by the doorway. However, there is one basket that is full of something else. Berries. Dark purple blackberries. There is also a big reed basket full of blackberries sitting on a table. Then it suddenly occurs to Myranda. The berries by the doorway must  _ not _ really be blackberries. In the North, blackberries grow on thick vines during summer years. However, there is a  _ poisonous _ blackberry look alike that also grows in the North. Northerners call them  _ black vine berries _ . The problem is that blackberries and black vine berries usually grow together in thick bushes. Black vine berries can easily be confused for blackberries and accidentally consumed. The poison isn’t really dangerous for adults. Adults usually just get a bad stomach ache if they accidentally consume the poisonous berries. However, the poison can make young children extremely ill. The poison can cause young children to have belly cramps, vomiting, fever, and loose bowels, all of which can be fatal to young children and infants. This is why cooks in castles must take care to inspect any baskets of blackberries, in order to weed out any black vine berries. Black vine berries can be identified by a single silvery speck on the bottom. Myranda picks up a berry from the basket by the door and looks at the bottom. Yep, it is a black vine berry. The Stark’s cook must have sorted out the poisonous berries from the blackberries. 

A man suddenly looks over to a table where a maid is mixing up some dough. “Remember, don’t mix that dough too much!” The man says with a stern voice. “Otherwise the tarts will not be good.” 

Myranda raises a brow. This man must be Winterfell’s head cook. The man then looks over to a pot where a maid is stirring some cooking custard. “And make sure that custard doesn’t burn!” The man yells out. “And we must get a pot with some honey to cook those blackberries up. You know Lord Stark is expecting the very best blackberry and custard tartlets at this feast.” 

Myranda glances at the basket of blackberries.  _ So that is what the blackberries are going to be used for. _ Myranda thinks to herself.  _ Blackberry and custard tartlets. _

Myranda steps back to think for a minute. She looks down at the berry in her hand and smirks evilly when an idea comes to mind. The poison in black vine berries can be passed on through a mother’s milk. Myranda knows just how to get rid of the little bastard. All Myranda has to do is to throw the black vine berries back in with the blackberries without anyone noticing. The way Lord Bolton is being to Faye, he would most definitely allow her to have a couple of the tartlets. Then, Faye will nurse the little bastard without knowing she consumed the poison and the little bastard will subsequently sicken and die as a result. And best of all, Myranda won’t get the blame because it is the job of Winterfell’s cook to sort out the blackberries from the poisonous black vine berries. Everyone will just assume that the cook forgot or didn’t do a good job when he sorted through the berries. Winterfell’s cook would be the one to lose his head if something happened to the little bastard, not Myranda. However, Myranda frowns when she thinks of something. The lords and ladies have young children out in the great hall. The little lords and ladies are likely to be poisoned as well. What if Ramsay was to consume a tartlet or two?

_ Relax Myranda…, _ Myranda inwardly tells herself.  _ You won’t get the blame for this. Winterfell’s cook will. If some of the Lords and ladies children die then so be it. At least the little bastard will be gone.  _

Myranda smirks as she picks up the basket of the poisonous berries. Besides, Ramsay is a strong man. He can survive a little belly ache. As long as the little bastard dies, Ramsay will probably forgive her if he is poisoned as well. Myranda carefully scans the kitchen. The cook and all of the maids have their backs turned. Now is her chance. Myranda tiptoes over to the table. She smirks as she dumps the poisonous berries into the basket of blackberries.  _ Oops…, _ Myranda thinks sarcastically to herself as she tiptoes away. Myranda silently sets the now empty basket by the doorway. She smirks as she silently leaves the kitchen. Myranda walks out into the courtyard. 

Out in the courtyard, Jon Snow is practicing his archery. Lady Catelyn’s hateful stare during the gathering was just too much for him. Jon, excused himself, saying that he was going to practice his archery. Jon sighs as he goes to gather the arrows that fell to the ground. Jon looks up to see a young dark haired woman walking by the archery field. The woman has a smirk on her face as she walks through the courtyard. Jon raises a brow. He recognizes the woman. She is one of the servants that Lord Bolton brought with him.  _ What is she smirking about? _ Jon thinks to himself as he puts the arrows he gathered into a basket.  _ For some reason I have a bad feeling about this. _

Back in the kitchen, the cook grabs the basket of blackberries, unaware of what Myranda has done. He walks over to a hearth and dumps the berries into a pot that has been hung over the fire. The cook then pours in a little honey and begins smashing the berries with a wooden paddle. The berries shall cook down and form a jam like substance, which will then top the custard tartlets. 

* * *

Mordred is currently seated on his grandfather’s lap in the great hall. The two of them, along with Ramsay are listening to the other Northern Lord’s lament about the problems they have faced in the past year. Roose simply sips some wine. Mordred has been good as gold during the entire gathering. Ramsay, not so much. Ramsay keeps on making smart and rude comments regarding the other lords and ladies. This is a sign that Ramsay will not make a good lord. 

Roose then glances at the Cerwyns. Ever since Roose revealed that Mordred is also the grandson of Arric Cerwyn, the Cerwyn’s have avoided eye contact with Roose and Ramsay. Arric simply won’t look at Mordred either. According to Maester Wolkan, the man didn’t really seem to care for his bastard daughter that much. It should be no surprise then that Arric won’t have anything to do with his grandson. 

Mordred simply blinks as he listens to a lord speak. Mordred really finds the conversations interesting and enlightening. He is learning what it takes to be a lord. The subject right now is the rabbit problem that the north faced moons ago. 

Lord Karstark sighs as he recounts how he dealt with the rabbit problem. “Aye, I sent many men to hunt down the rabbits plaguing the farmers fields.” Lord Karstark says. “I even sent my own sons to kill the little critters.” 

Lord Karstark takes a sip of his wine. “On the bright side though, we did teach my granddaughter to hunt them, and she was good at it.” Lord Karstark says. “I daresay, she killed more rabbits than my sons and I combined!” 

Everyone immediately turns to the young girl in question. Little Alys simply blushes at the attention. Lord Karstark then whispers in his granddaughter’s ear. Alys stands up. “Alys…,” Lord Karstark says tenderly to his granddaughter. “Show everyone your new cloak.” 

Alys lifts up her cloak. The edging of the cloak is made with a light brown fur. Rabbit fur? “My grandfather had the servants make this cloak for me.” Little Alys says. “The fur came from the rabbits I hunted.” 

Lord Stark looks over at the young Karstark girl. “Tell me…,” Lord Stark says. “Just how many rabbits did you kill?” 

Alys blushes a little. “Actually, I don’t know exactly how many. I lost count at one hundred.” 

Many of the lords in the room gasp and immediately clap to congratulate the young girl. Ramsay however, just laughs. “One hundred rabbits?!” Ramsay says with a laugh. “That is nothing. I killed over three hundred rabbits!” 

Many of the other lords in the room look at Ramsay with some ire. Roose just looks down. Aside from his rude remarks, Ramsay has also been very boastful about his achievements during the year. However, little Mordred keeps calling Ramsay out on his rude remarks, by saying ‘bad da’, which the other lords and ladies find very amusing. This has lightened the mood somewhat. If it wasn’t for Mordred, Lord Stark probably would have kicked Ramsay out of the great hall by now.

Mordred glances towards young Alys. The young girl looks incredibly deflated by Ramsay’s comment. Mordred frowns and points to his father. “Bad da.” Mordred says. 

A few of the lords sitting nearby manage to snicker at Mordred’s antics. However, Lord Karstark looks at Ramsay with ire. Harald, is especially looking at Ramsay with rage. Harald, looks at his deflated daughter. “Don’t listen to Lord Bolton’s bastard.” Harald says soothingly to his daughter. “You just started learning to hunt. Killing one hundred rabbits is quite a feat for someone your age.” 

“That is right.” Lord Karstark says. “Don’t listen to the bastard.” 

Alys doesn’t respond. She just sits back down in her seat. Lord Stark clears his throat. “Now that lord Karstark has spoken, I would like to know if anyone else had rabbit problems this year.” 

After a few minutes, Lord Greatjon Umber stands up. He holds his grandson Ned, in his arms. “Aye, rabbits invaded the fields of my farmers as well.” The Greatjon says. “I had to send out nearly all my best hunters to get rid of them. My son and I even hunted the little critters. In the end, we ended up with more rabbit skins than I could count. I had my servants make my son, my grandson and I cloaks. I even had the servants make a new blanket for little Ned. Even after all of that, I still have piles of rabbit skins leftover.” 

Smalljon laughs as he takes a sip of wine. “On the bright side however, we now have piles of furs to make clothes with when winter does come.” Smalljon says. 

Many of the other lords laugh as well. Roose clears his throat. “Just like Lord Karstark and lord Umber, I also had a rabbit problem on my land.” Roose says. “I sent out my men to kill as many as they could. I even sent my own son to kill the rabbits.” 

Roose then thinks of something. He glances towards Ramsay. “Even though my boy killed three hundred rabbits, he still didn’t kill as many as all my best hunters combined.” 

Ramsay blinks a little at the revelation. He tries to think of something to say. “Even if I didn’t kill as many as my father’s best hunters combined, I still killed a lot of rabbits.” 

Ramsay then smirks when he looks at his cloak. “You all see this?!” Ramsay says with a proud voice. “I had the servants make this for me with the furs from the rabbits that  _ I _ hunted.” 

Roose simply blinks a few times. “It seems that you are forgetting that I also had a similar cloak made for myself.” Roose says. “And don’t forget the blanket I had the servants make for Mordred.” 

Ramsay looks down. He has nothing more to say. Mordred grins a little.  _ It appears that you have nothing more to say father.  _ Mordred thinks to himself. 

After a few moments of silence, Lord Stark clears his throat. He stands up. “It appears that all of us had problems with rabbits invading the fields of our farmers.” Lord Stark says. “Now, if the same thing happens again next year, we must be prepared. Tell me, how should we combat another rabbit problem?” 

“Sending out men to the farmers fields worked well for all of us.” Lord Greatjon Umber states. “I did have some success with snares. The string just had to be thick and tough so the rabbits couldn’t chew through them.” 

Lord Hornwood blinks a few times. “If the rabbit population increases again next year, we should focus on sending men to hunt them instead of using snares. It appears that all of us had success with taking care of the rabbit problem that way.” 

Lord Stark nods in approval. “Now that the rabbit problem has been discussed, there is one more problem that must be discussed.” Lord Stark says. “All of the castles North of Winterfell were attacked by wildlings this year.” 

Lord Greatjon Umber simply sighs. “Aye, my castle was attacked by wildlings  _ four _ times this year.” The Greatjon says. “I lost many good soldiers from each attack.” 

Lady Mormont frowns as she blinks a few times. “Aye, Bear Island has come under attack this year by wildlings as well.” Lady Mormont says. “All of the men and women of my island have fought bravely and fiercely this year. Many lives have been lost.” 

Ramsay just scoffs. “I’ll bet the lives lost were all women.” Ramsay says. 

Lady Mormont looks at Ramsay with eyes full of ire. Mordred simply gurgles and points to his father. “Bad da.” Mordred says. 

Many of the lords and ladies manage small smiles at Mordred’s words. Ramsay just looks away from Mordred. Lord Karstark blinks a few times. “My castle has sustained much damage from the wildlings this year.” Lord Karstark says solemnly. “My sons and I, along with our loyal soldiers have fought fiercely this year to keep Karhold standing. Aye, I have lost many good soldiers as a result.” 

As soon as Lord Karstark is done speaking, Roose clears his throat. “My castle came under attack twice this year. My soldiers fought bravely to defend my castle. At least twenty of my men lost their lives doing so.” Roose says with an unemotional voice. 

Ramsay scoffs and stands up. “The wildlings had the audacity to break down the Dreafort’s gate and storm the castle!” Ramsay says as he addresses everyone in the room. “It’s no wonder we lost so many men during the last attack.” 

Roose frowns. “You have no right to talk about the attack as you weren’t there helping to defend the castle.” Roose says with a voice full of ire. “You weren’t even there to defend the castle during the first attack. During both attacks, you were out hunting with your bed warmer, when you should have been defending the castle from the wildlings.” 

Mordred points to Ramsay again. “Bad da.” Mordred says. 

Ramsay sits down. He looks at the floor. Lord Karstark blinks a few times. “Aye, Harrion, Torrhen and I were at the Dreadfort when the last attack took place.” Lord Karstark says as he addresses everyone in the room. “My sons and I helped to defend the Dreadfort from the wildlings. I lost two of the three guards that I brought to the Dreadfort that day.” 

After a few minutes of silence, Lord Stark clears his throat. “Many lives have been lost to wildling attacks this year.” Lord Stark says. “The best way to combat this problem is to send more men to the wall to guard against the wildling threat.” 

A few moments of silence pass by. Lady Mormont is the first to stand up. “I shall spread the word on Bear Island.” Lady Mormont says. “I am certain that I can convince some able bodied men on Bear Island to take the black. The Night’s Watch can count on House Mormont.” 

Ramsay lets out a laugh. “If your women are so fierce, then maybe you should send  _ all _ of your men to the Night’s Watch!” Ramsay says. “The way you talk, it sounds as if you don’t need  _ any _ men on Bear island!” 

Lady Mormont looks at Ramsay with ire. Roose shakes his head and turns to his bastard son. “Ramsay, I have warned you against making smart remarks regarding the people of Bear island.” 

Mordred points to his father. “Bad da.” Mordred says again, which makes most of the lords and ladies smile. 

Just then, Lord Glover stands up. “I will also try to send some men up to the wall.” Lord Glover says. “The men in my lands, even the simple farmers, are not afraid to fight wildlings.” 

Lord Karstark then stands up. “I shall spread the word to all able bodied men in my lands.” Lord Karstark says. “I am certain that I can convince a few to take the black.” 

Lord Greatjon Umber stands up. “I have lost many men this summer, but I am sure that I can convince one or two men in my lands to take the black.” Lord Umber says. 

Lord Wyman Manderly then stands up. “I shall send men to the wall.” Lord Manderly says. “I am certain that I can convince men in my lands to take the black. The Night’s Watch can count on House Manderly.” 

Lord Manderly then turns to address all of the other lords in the room. “All of you Lords who are south of Winterfell are not attacked by wildlings, but that doesn’t mean you should ignore the problem. The wildlings are a threat to the  _ entire _ North. Sending men to the wall is our responsibility as well.” Lord Manderly says. 

Many of the other lords look at one another. Many stand to pledge that they will send men up the wall. All that is left is Roose. All of the other Northern lords look expectantly towards Roose. Roose simply stands up, lifting Mordred up as he rises. “I am certain that I can also send a few men from my lands up to the wall.” Roose says. 

Lord Stark nods in approval. “I thank all of you.” Lord Stark says. “May the Gods bless all of your houses.” 

Ramsay suddenly stands up. “All of you want to send men up to the wall, even when the Night’s Watch didn’t keep the wildlings back!” Ramsay says. “I say we should take a huge army, march beyond the wall, and slaughter  _ every single _ wildling we come across. Man, woman and child! That will solve the wildling problem!” 

Many of the lords and ladies just glance at one another. Lord Karstark looks at Ramsay with eyes full of disbelief. “That is absolute madness!” Lord Karstark says. “Do you even know how big a force we would need in order to march beyond the wall and wipe out the wildlings?! Besides, the land beyond the wall is the wildlings home. We would be in  _ their _ territory.” 

Roose looks at Ramsay. “Lord Karstark is right, that is madness.” Roose says. “The wildlings could easily wipe  _ us _ out, just as easily as we could wipe them out.” 

“It would solve the wildling problem for good!” Ramsay argues. “We wouldn’t have to worry about being attacked in our castles ever again.” 

“Wildlings are just one threat that we must face.” Lord Stark says. “There is famine. There is winter. Our focus must be protecting and ensuring the welfare of all the people who call the North home. A full scale invasion beyond the wall would cost us too many lives. I doubt King Robert Baratheon would support such a campaign. If King Robert won’t back us, then none of the other regions will back us. It would be just the Night’s Watch and the entire North against the wildlings. Besides, we are not being attacked by wildling mothers and babes. Slaughtering mothers and babes is savagery.” 

“Babes grow up!” Ramsay argues. “Once those babes grow up they will attack us just like their predecessors.” 

Mordred glances at his father.  _ I will grow up one day as well…, _ Mordred thinks to himself.  _ And when I do, I will make you pay for your crimes. _

Roose looks at Ramsay. “Ramsay, sit down.” Roose orders. “We have all heard enough.” 

Ramsay simply blinks a few times. He sits down. A servant girl suddenly walks over to Lord Stark and whispers something to him. Lord Stark nods and stands up. “Word from my castle’s kitchen is that it is almost time for the feast. Please invite your servants back in so we can all dine together.” 

All of the lords and ladies nod and get up from their seats. Roose gets up and carries Mordred outside. The sun is almost set over the horizon. The air is cool and crisp. Smoke comes out of every chimney. Roose heads towards a platform which leads into some extra guest chambers. These chambers are for the servants of visiting lords. Inside one of the chambers, Faye, Bliss and Gale sit together on a large straw mattress. Faye is currently playing with Ailis. Roose quickly sets Mordred on the bed. Since it is almost time for Mordred to go to bed, Faye and Bliss will eat inside the chamber so that the babes can have some quiet time before they go to sleep. Faye, Bliss and Gale all bow their heads down to their liege lord. “Lord Bolton, I trust that Mordred behaved himself.” Faye says respectfully. 

Roose nods. “He was good as gold.” Roose says. However, Roose soon frowns. “Ramsay however, kept making smart remarks about the other lords and ladies.”

Faye, Bliss and Gale can hear the tinge of ire in Lord Bolton’s voice. But who can blame him? His son pretty much embarrassed him in front of the other Northern lords and ladies. 

“The feast shall begin very soon.” Roose says. He looks at Gale and gestures for her to follow him. “Come, I need you to wait on me while I dine.” 

Gale nods and gets up from the bed. She bows respectfully to her liege lord. “Of course milord.” Gale says respectfully. Gale and Lord Bolton swiftly leave the room. 

Bliss looks at Faye. “I suppose I shall head into the great hall and fetch some food for us. What would you like to eat?” 

Faye just blinks a few times. “What is there supposed to be?” Faye asks. 

“I asked Gale about it and she said that the food is absolutely wonderful.” Bliss says. “Every year, there are roasted suckling pigs and roasted hens. There is roasted root vegetables, potato and parsnip mash, and meat pies. And of course, there is bread, butter, cheese, honey and preserves. Winterfell’s cooks also make sweets for the feast. There are lingonberry cakes, apple puddings, and blackberry and custard tarts.” 

“Oh my…,” Faye says when she thinks of all that food. “I wonder whatever I shall eat.” 

Bliss smiles as she prepares to leave. “Then have a little bit of everything.” Bliss says. “That is what I am going to do.” 

Bliss leaves the room and walks through the courtyard until she reaches the great hall. Inside the great hall servants bring out platters full of food. Lord Eddard Stark, his family, Winterfell’s maester, and Lord Stark’s retainers all sit together near each other at the main tables. Tables have been lined up against the inner wall. Upon the tables, sit platters and bowls of food. More food than Bliss has ever seen in her life. There is a fat and juicy looking roasted suckling pig. There are two fat hens, both roasted until golden brown. The smells from the roasted pig and hens are absolutely mouthwatering. 

Aside from the meats, there are various side dishes. There are platters full of various meat pies, blood puddings, bread and butter and cheese. There are bowls full of a mixture of turnip greens and other hardy greens, which have been cooked together with bacon and butter. There are serving bowls full of root vegetables, cooked with the drippings from the pig, and onions and garlic. There are bowls of mashed potatoes, seasoned with butter and garlic. 

Then, there are the sweets. There are dense little butter cakes with a honey and rum glaze, sprinkled with crushed walnuts. There are little cakes topped with lingonberry jam. There are dishes full of apple pudding. Little pitchers of thickened cream, sweetened with honey sit by the dishes of pudding. There are bowls full of custard. Finally, there are custard and blackberry tartlets. 

Bliss just grabs two plates. She will start with the meats and sides first. She shall come back for the desserts later.

* * *

Myranda stands in the shadows and watches as the lords and ladies chat away about the past year. The feast has been going for a while now. Myranda narrows her eyes as she watches one of the lords give his child a blackberry and custard tartlet. Myranda didn’t see Faye’s companion, Bliss, filling plates with the desserts.  _ If the woman doesn’t come back for the desserts, there won’t be any tartlets left…, _ Myranda thinks sourly to herself.  _ Then my plan will be ruined. _

However, Myranda soon smirks when she sees Bliss coming back into the great hall. Bliss begins filling an empty plate with desserts. Myranda smiles evilly to her herself when she sees that Bliss has put blackberry tartlets onto the plate. Bliss walks out of the great hall, unaware that the tartlets have been poisoned. Myranda retreats back into the darkness.  _ Goodbye little  _ _ bastard, _ Myranda thinks to herself.  _ There is no way you can survive this. _

Myranda walks down a hallway until she reaches an open doorway. She walks into the courtyard with a smirk on her face. Out in the courtyard, Jon Snow is still practicing his archery. Jon looks on with narrowed eyes as he watches Myranda walk by. _It is that woman again…,_ Jon thinks to himself. _And she still has that smirk on her face._ _Why?_ All of the sudden, Jon hears his stomach rumble. Jon grimaces and goes back to practicing his archery. During feasts, Jon almost always has to eat in the kitchen to avoid Lady Stark’s hateful gaze. Thankfully, Gage is more than willing to let his lord’s bastard eat in the kitchen. _Just a few more shots…,_ Jon thinks. _Then I shall eat._

* * *

Roose watches with ire as Ramsay stuffs his face. It has been a while since the feast began. Ramsay’s table manners have still not improved. “This is good food.” Ramsay says with a half full mouth. “Very delicious food indeed.” 

Lord Karstark, Lord Umber and Lord Hornwood just look at the scene with disdain. “Lord Bolton, your bastard is spewing food everywhere!” Lord Umber says with ire. 

Roose frowns as he sets his wine goblet down. If Ramsay cannot eat like a lord, then he can eat  _ alone _ . “Ramsay, go to the guest house and eat.” Roose says with a deathly voice. “Your terrible table manners are ruining everyone’s appetite.” 

Ramsay momentarily stops eating. He swallows the food in his mouth. “Yes father.” Ramsay says. Ramsay picks up his plate and wine goblet...and silently begins walking away from the table. 

Across the room, Lord Gregor Forrester lets out a laugh. “Look at that! Lord Bolton has finally kicked his bastard out of the room!” 

Everyone turns to see Ramsay walk out of the Great hall. Lord Greatjon Umber sighs with relief and returns to his own plate. “Finally…,” The Greatjon says. “We can eat without having to look at half chewed food!” 

Roose takes a sip of his wine. “Ever since I brought Ramsay to the Dreadfort, he has had bad table manners. Again, I blame his lowborn mother for that.” Roose momentarily sets his goblet down. “As you can see, my grandson is looking like a better prospect for heir.” 

Lord Greatjon simply laughs. “I do agree on that.” Lord Greatjon says. “The little lad is already walking and talking. A definite sign that he shall make a good future Lord Bolton.” 

Roose simply blinks a few times. “However, I do fear for the future of House Bolton. What if I was to make Mordred my heir, and then I die before he reaches adulthood? He would be a boy lord...and young boys make poor lords.” 

Lord Karstark narrows his eyes. “Lord Bolton, it isn’t like you are destined to die tomorrow.” Lord Karstark says. “Besides, the little lad looks as though he shall be very clever as he grows. Even if he wasn’t grown, I think he could rule House Bolton quite well.” 

Roose takes another sip of his wine. “That is not my only problem.” Roose says with a slightly tense voice. “For you see, my servants don’t care for Ramsay because of his behavior and attitude. And because of this, half of my servants refuse to have anything to do with Mordred. In fact...ever since the boy came to the Dreadfort, it appears that someone has been trying to  _ kill _ him. Or at the very least  _ sicken _ him.”

Everyone in the Great hall glances at one another. Ned Stark, who is seated at the head table, clears his throat. “What makes you say that Lord Bolton?” Ned asks. 

Roose takes another sip of his wine. “There have been a number of strange incidences ever since my grandson arrived at the castle.” Roose says. He sets his goblet down. “When Mordred was two weeks old, the wetnurse awoke one night to find the fires in both hearths out. There was water on the bottom of both hearths and the door was ajar.” 

Lord Karstark narrows his eyes. He scratches his beard as he thinks about this. “That would mean someone snuck into the nursery while the wetnurse was asleep and put the fires out.” Lord Karstark says. 

Roose picks up his wine goblet and takes a sip of wine before he continues. “Then, when Mordred was three weeks old, his wetnurse left the nursery for a little bit. She returned to find the door ajar, and Mordred face down in the cradle, as if someone had turned him over. Thankfully, when the wetnurse turned Mordred over, he started crying.” 

“Blimey, someone tried to suffocate the little lad!” Smalljon Umber exclaims. 

Roose clears his throat before he continues. “A week after Mordred’s near suffocation, the wetnurse had to leave the room again. When she returned the door was ajar again. Upon inspection she found that someone had dumped the clean bathwater out the window and then replaced it with filthy river water.” Roose then narrows his eyes when he thinks of the fire incident. “Around a month after the bathwater incident, the wetnurse had to leave the room again. While she was gone a candle mysteriously fell over and caught a wooden corner backing on fire. Thankfully, the blacksmith’s son happened to hear Mordred crying and discovered the fire. The fire was put out before it could spread. The blacksmith’s son said that when he got to the room, the door was ajar. The wetnurse swears to this day that she closed it. Upon further inspection the candle that caught the wood backing afire was found in a strange position. It looked as if someone had tipped the candle over so that it would set the wood afire.” 

“Seven hells!” Lord Greatjon Umber exclaims. “Pouring water in the hearths, replacing bathwater and trying to suffocate the little lad is one thing...but setting the nursery afire is an entirely different matter.” 

Lord Stark clears his throat. “Lord Bolton, do you have any idea who is committing these acts?” 

Roose takes a sip of his wine. “The servants who care for Mordred keep pointing fingers at Ramsay’s favorite bed warmer, Myranda.” 

Lord Hornwood immediately narrows his eyes. “Myranda? The servant that your boy kept flirting with during the midday meal?” 

Roose nods his head. “It was Ramsay who wanted her to come. He said that he wanted to have a ‘good time’ during the visit.” 

Lady Dustin narrows her eyes. Her former good-brother let a maid who is trying to kill his own grandson come to the feast? “Lord Bolton, if you are suspicious of the girl, why did you let her come?” Lady Dustin asks. “The girl could actually be attempting to kill your grandson.” 

Roose takes a sip of his wine. “I have no proof that it is her.” Roose says. “No one sees her around the nursery when the incidents take place. The fact of the matter is, it could be any of the servants. It could even be multiple servants. The only evidence that is ever found is that the door is always found ajar.” 

Roose takes another sip of his wine. “The last incident took place around three moons ago, during the first cold snap of the year. The wind blew over a torch, almost burning my castle to the ground. The wetnurse left the nursery to fight the fire. When she returned the door was ajar again. Someone put out the fires in the hearths,  _ and _ opened the windows to let the cold air in.” 

“Seven hells, someone tried to freeze the babe to death!” Lord Karstark exclaims. 

Lord Greatjon Umber looks at Roose. “Lord Bolton, if you suspect your bastard’s bed warmer, then why haven’t you chopped her head off?” Lord Umber looks at little Ned who is seated in his lap. The child is eating a blackberry and custard tartlet. “If that woman was my servant, and she had attempted to kill my grandson, I would have executed her by now!” 

Roose sets his goblet down. “Again, I have no proof.” Roose says. “And if my son knows anything about these incidents, he is not saying anything. And besides, if I was to execute Myranda when it is someone else, the wetnurse could let her guard down, allowing the true culprit to harm the boy.” 

Many of the lords and ladies in the room look at one another. Lord Bolton does have a point. Just then, Alys Karstark gasps and clutches her stomach. “Father, my belly hurts really bad.” Alys says. 

Harald simply puts a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Perhaps you have eaten too much.” Harald says. “Go to the guest house and lie down for a bit.” 

“I didn’t really eat much, father.” Alys says as she winces. “All I ate was some roast pork, chicken, potatoes, bread and butter...and a blackberry tartlet.” 

Just then, another child in the great hall begins complaining of belly pain. After that, five more children start complaining of belly pain. Even Lord Stark’s five trueborn children are starting to complain of belly pain. Many of the lords look at one another. What is going on here?

* * *

Faye and Bliss both look down at the empty plate before them. Bliss smiles as she eats the last bite of her blackberry and custard tartlet. “My blackberry and custard tartlet was very good.” Bliss says. 

“My tartlet was good too.” Faye says. “We have to compliment Winterfell’s cook for the wonderful food.” 

Faye then looks over at Mordred and Ailis. The two babes are playing on the bed with their toys. Mordred starts sucking on his fingers. Time for a feeding. Faye quickly unties her blouse. Bliss quickly scoops Mordred and Ailis up and hands them over to Faye. Faye smiles as she holds Ailis and Mordred in her lap. Mordred immediately latches onto one of Faye’s breasts and starts suckling. Ailis does the same. 

Bliss simply smiles at the sight. She begins preparing the bed. Mordred and Ailis shall sleep between her and Faye. Faye just sighs as she looks at the fire in the hearth. All is peaceful.

* * *

Jon is in the great hall, fixing himself a plate of food. Jon narrows his eyes as he listens to the whimpering children.  _ How strange…, _ Jon thinks to himself.  _ All of the children are complaining of belly pain. _ Jon just shakes his head and exits the great hall and makes his way towards the kitchen. As Jon passes through the corridor, he spots something by the door. It is a basket full of vegetable peelings...and one empty basket. Jon narrows his eyes. It isn’t like Gage to leave an empty basket by the door. Jon enters the kitchen to see Gage and the other kitchen servants hard at work. Gage smiles as he looks at Jon. “Ah hello there lad.” Gage says. “Good of you to grace us with your presence at last. I was starting to worry.” 

Jon glances back at the doorway as he sits down on a stool. “Gage, is there a reason that you left an empty basket by the doorway?” Jon asks. 

Gage narrows his eyes in confusion. “An empty basket you say?” Gage asks. “I don’t recall doing so. There should be a basket of vegetable peelings, and one full of black vine berries.” 

Jon’s eyes widen considerably. Black vine berries?! “I didn’t see a basket of berries by the door.” Jon says. 

Gage’s eyes widen. He rushes to the door and almost screams when he picks up the empty basket. “But...this basket was full of black vine berries when I set it over here.” Gage says with some panic. “I don’t understand how this is possible.” 

Gage looks at the wide eyed kitchen servants. He looks at the pot that held the blackberry topping for the tartlets. Gage drops the basket and starts wailing with horror. “OH NO!” Gage cries. “The blackberry tartlets!” 

Jon looks down at the tartlet on his plate. “The children in the great hall are all complaining of belly pain. Black vine berry poisoning would certainly explain it.” Jon says with realization. 

Gage stops wailing and looks accusingly at the other kitchen servants. “Which one of you  _ poisoned _ the blackberry tartlets?!” Gage asks with an accusing voice. 

The other kitchen servants begin whispering to each other. It is Palla who eventually turns to Gage. “Gage, I swear it wasn’t any of us. However, just after midday I did see a strange woman walk by the kitchen. I think it was one of the visiting lords servants.” 

Jon’s eyes widen considerably. Lord Bolton’s servant that he saw out in the courtyard! “Wait, what did this woman look like?” Jon asks. “Sometime after midday I spotted a woman leaving the kitchen. I remember seeing her with Lord Bolton’s contingent during the midday meal. She had this smirk on her face, like she just did something that she was proud of.” 

Palla narrows her eyes. “Did the woman have dark hair and grayish eyes? Was she wearing a light gray dress?” 

Jon’s eyes widen considerably. “Yes!” Jon says. 

Palla simply blinks a few times. “Then that was the woman I saw.” Palla says. 

Jon, Gage, Palla and the other kitchen servants all glance at one another. Gage just looks between the empty basket and the pot that held the blackberry topping. Gage just weeps into his hands. Jon puts a hand on Gage’s shoulder. “Come Gage, we must inform my father and the other lords of this. If that woman is responsible then she must pay.” Jon says. 

Gage merely nods and picks up the basket. He silently follows Jon out of the kitchen. Gage and Jon enter the Great hall only to find chaos. Children are now writhing on the floor in pain. A few even vomit. The children’s panicked parents stand over them. Smalljon Umber is holding his screaming son in his arms. “Papa!” Little Ned cries. “Belly hurt! Belly hurt!” 

Nearby, an unknown lord holds his stomach. “Seven hells, my belly feels like it is being tossed in a catapult!” The lord exclaims. 

Gage whimpers as Jon leads him over to the head table. Lord Stark looks over at his son and his castle’s cook. “Father, I think I know what is wrong.” Jon says quickly. “I think the blackberry tartlets were poisoned with black vine berries.” 

Lord Stark looks at Gage with questioning eyes. “Gage, how is this possible? Did you forget to sort the berries?” Lord Stark asks with a tense voice. Lord Stark has never known Gage to forget such an important task. 

Gage simply wails as he holds up the empty basket. “Lord Stark, I sorted the blackberries from the black vine berries like I always do!” Gage says. “I put the black vine berries in this basket and put them by the door to be thrown out. However, Jon found the basket empty. I don’t understand it.” 

Jon clears his throat. “Father, it appears that someone threw the black vine berries back into the basket of blackberries without Gage noticing.” Jon says. 

Lord Stark narrows his eyes. He has never known of his servants to do such a thing. “Was it one of the other kitchen servants then?” 

Jon just shakes his head. “No, the other kitchen absolutely swear that it wasn’t any of them.” Jon says with a tense voice. “However, Palla says she saw a strange woman walk through the doorway to the kitchen after the midday meal. Around that time, I also saw a strange woman leaving the kitchen. I actually recognized her from Lord Bolton’s contingent. I also remember Lord Bolton’s bastard son flirting with her during the midday meal. She had dark hair, dark eyes and she was wearing a light gray dress.” 

Roose stands up immediately. “That would be Myranda, Ramsay’s bed warmer.” Roose says. 

Jon takes a deep breath. “And...when she passed me, she had this smirk on her face. Like she just did something that she was proud of.” 

“Seven hells, the woman must have poisoned the tartlets!” Lord Portan exclaims. “That is what she must have been smirking about!” 

Lady Elissa Forrester looks at her sick children. “The woman has poisoned our children!” Lady Forrester cries with a mix of horror and rage. 

Maester Luwin then stands up. “Everyone, we need to calm down.” Maester Luwin says. “We can treat black vine berry poisoning. I can make an antidote with some herbs and a little deer antler.” 

All of the lords and ladies quiet down a little. They trust the wise Maester’s words. Lord Stark looks at his castle’s maester. “Maester Luwin, go make the antidote.” Lord Stark orders. “The treatment will only work if it is given within a certain timeframe.” 

Maester Luwin nods and leaves the great hall in a hurry. Just then, Faye and Bliss run into the great hall. Faye carries a wailing and red faced Mordred in her arms. Bliss carries a wailing Ailis in her arms. Faye, presents Mordred to Roose. Faye’s eyes are full of panic. “Lord Bolton, something is wrong with Mordred and my daughter!” Faye says with a tinge of panic in her voice. “I ate my dinner and then nursed them both. One minute they were both nursing, and the next they were red faced and screaming. They even have sweat on their faces. I just don’t understand it.” 

Roose just looks at his wailing grandson. Black vine berry poison can be passed onto a baby through a mother’s milk. “Did you eat a blackberry tartlet?” Roose asks. 

Faye blinks a few times. “Yes milord, I did.” Faye says admittingly. “Why do you ask, milord? Was there something wrong with it?” 

Roose just nods. Realization hits him. Myranda must have been counting on Faye eating one of the poisoned tartlets. The poison was  _ meant _ for Mordred. “Myranda poisoned the tartlets with black vine berries.” Roose simply says. 

Faye and Bliss both gasp. Faye just looks at Mordred and her red faced daughter. Black vine berry poisoning can be very dangerous for babes. Mordred just wails as his belly aches with pain. It feels as if someone is stabbing a knife into his stomach. He has never felt such pain before.  _ Someone please make this pain go away…, _ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Lord Karstark gets up from his seat. “Seven hells!” Lord Karstark exclaims. He looks at Roose. “Lord Bolton, your bastard’s bed warmer has poisoned us all! Including your grandson! She even poisoned Lord Stark’s children!” 

Roose looks over at the head table. Lady Catelyn is trying to soothe her ailing children. Lord Stark’s oldest, Robb just sits in his chair. Robb is keeping a brave face but even Roose can tell that the boy is experiencing major discomfort. 

Ser Rodrik Cassel, Lord Stark’s master-at-arms, suddenly gets up from his seat. Rodrik Cassel looks at his lord. “Lord Stark, this is sacrilege. The woman ate the salt and bread you offered her and yet she repaid you by poisoning your children. She broke guest right!” 

Lord Stark’s steward, Vayon Poole, looks around. He is holding his own sick daughter, Jeyne. “Has anyone seen the woman since the midday meal?” Poole asks. 

Roose narrows his eyes and looks around. He hasn’t seen his servant since the midday meal. Just then, a voice calls out from the doorway. “Father, what is going on in here?” The voice asks. 

Roose and all of the other lords turn to see Ramsay standing by the doorway. Ramsay is carrying an empty plate and goblet. Roose frowns as he looks at his son. His son better not have anything to do with this. “Ramsay, where is that bed warmer of yours.” Roose asks with a voice full of ire. 

Ramsay narrows his eyes. “I actually do not know, father.” Ramsay says. “I have been looking for her. Why do you ask? Is something wrong?” 

Lord Greatjon Umber stands up. “Yes, as a matter of fact there is something wrong!” Lord Umber bellows. “Your bed warmer poisoned the blackberry tartlets! She’s poisoned us all, including your son!” Lord Umber then looks at his ailing grandson. “She poisoned my grandson!” 

Ramsay raises a brow. “Poisoned?” Ramsay asks with a confused yet tense voice. 

“Your bed warmer threw a basket of black vine berries into a basket of blackberries without Lord Stark’s cook noticing.” Roose explains. “Faye ate one of them right before she nursed Mordred, thus poisoning him as well. Now, I won’t ask again. Where is your bed warmer?” 

Ramsay looks at the floor. Myranda always promised him that she would find a way to get rid of the little bastard. However, Ramsay never imagined that Myranda would be willing to do something like this in order to achieve that goal. Roose narrows his eyes at Ramsay’s silence. And why is his son looking at the floor? “Ramsay, why are you looking at the floor?” Roose asks. “Did you know the woman was planning to do this?!” 

Ramsay holds up his hands. “Of course not father!” Ramsay says quickly. “I knew Myranda never cared for my little bastard...but...I just never imagined that she could do something like this.” 

Roose narrows his eyes. He can tell that his son is hiding something. However, before Roose can speak, Lord Stark clears his throat. “Enough talk, we must find the woman before she escapes Winterfell.” Lord Stark says.

Lord Forrester’s wife looks up from her writhing children. “But Lord Stark, what about our children?” Lady Forrester asks. 

Lady Stark suddenly stands up. “Bring the children into the old throne room. They can be treated there.” Lady Stark says. 

Next to Winterfell’s great hall is a large room that once served as a throne room when Stark Kings once ruled the North. These days, the old throne room is used as an informal gathering place for small celebrations. The women all begin leading and or carrying their sick children into the old throne room. Smalljon Umber follows the women, carrying little Ned in his arms. All those who are left get up from their seats and start dispersing. Meanwhile, Myranda watches from a dark doorway. She immediately starts making her way down the dark corridor. Shoot, everyone figured out it was her. Lord Bolton shall have her head now.  _ I need to get out of here…, _ Myranda thinks to herself.  _ Or else I am done for. _

“You!” Someone suddenly says. Myranda turns to see a man wearing lord’s clothing on the other side of the hallway. Myranda’s eyes widen. Crap! Myranda makes a run for it. The unknown lord gives chase. 

Myranda runs until she reaches a doorway that leads out into a courtyard. The gate is straight ahead of her. Myranda hears voices behind her. Myranda grimaces and begins running as fast as she can. Maybe if she can make it outside the gate, she can then run into the wolfswood and therefore lose her pursuers. Myranda hears shouts behind her. Myranda turns to see Lord Bolton, Ramsay, Lord Stark and other lords gathering in the middle of the courtyard. Faye runs up to stand beside Lord Bolton. She holds the ailing Mordred in her arms.

“Get back here you evil witch!” Faye yells. “You cannot escape your punishment!” 

Myranda smirks as she turns back towards the gate.  _ Oh yes I can…, _ Myranda thinks.  _ All I have to do is make it to the wolfswood and I will be free. _

“Someone stop her!” Lord Forrester yells. 

Mordred turns his head to see Myranda attempting to escape. Mordred gurgles and lifts up his hand.  _ Oh no you don’t…, _ Mordred thinks as he tries to summon up every ounce of magic in his body.  _ You may have managed to poison me, but I won’t let you get away with this. If I die, I am taking you down with me. _

Mordred’s eyes glow and his tiny hand lights up with power. He doesn’t care that Faye, his grandfather, the other lords or even his father are watching. He is going to make sure Myranda pays for this. Mordred, lets out an angry wail and holds up his glowing hand. Mordred points his hand towards the gate, which glows green. Faye gasps as she looks down at Mordred. Roose and the other lords just stare at the baby in Faye’s arms with wide eyes. Myranda gasps when she sees the glowing gate. Myranda looks back and notices Mordred’s glowing eyes and tiny glowing hand.  _ The little bastard!? _ Myranda thinks. 

Roose and the other lords watch with amazement as Mordred thrusts his hand away from the gate, causing the glowing gate doors to slam shut with a loud bang. Mordred’s eyes and hand stop glowing. The green energy surrounding the gate disappears. Myranda ends up running into the gate head first. Myranda falls to the ground, dazed. Two of Lord Stark’s servants grab her arms and start dragging her back towards Lord Stark and the other lords. 

Lord Greatjon Umber is standing next to Lord Karstark. “Seven hells, the babe shut the gate!” Lord Umber yells. 

Maester Luwin, who is standing close by, almost falls to his knees. The maester was getting ready to walk across the courtyard in order to grab some herbs from the greenhouse. He saw the whole thing. “Magic!” Maester Luwin says with disbelief. “But...that should be impossible.” 

The two men drag the wide eyed Myranda over to Lord Stark. Lord Stark barely pays then any mind. He is staring at baby Mordred just like Roose and the other lords. “Lord Stark, what do you want us to do with her?” One of the men asks. 

Lord Stark finally looks at Myranda and his two servants. “Mikkan...Farlen take her to the dungeons for now.” Lord Stark says. “We shall deal with her later.” 

The two men, Mikkan and Farlen nod and start dragging Myranda away. Myranda just stares at baby Mordred. “The little bastard is cursed!” Myranda yells. “Cursed I tell you! Cursed!” 

Roose simply looks at his grandson with wide eyes full of shock and wonder. Ramsay on the other hand is trembling. He barely pays attention to Myranda’s yelling. Ramsay just trembles as he stares at his bastard son. 

Mordred lets out a gasp and finally lets his head fall back. He is losing energy fast. _This is it,_ Mordred thinks to himself. _I’m dying. At least...I made Myranda pay for all that she has done. She won’t be able to escape punishment now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, Mordred just revealed his magic to Roose, Ramsay, Faye...and Lord Stark! Even though he didn't really know about Mordred's powers, it seems that Grandpa Roose really has some explaining to do now. And don't worry, Mordred is not going to die. He is just very, very sick right now. So much happened during this chapter, so here are a few important things to note.  
> 1\. All of the other Northern Lords now know of Mordred's existence and they have seen just how advanced he is.  
> 2\. Ramsay pretty much embarrassed Roose during the entire gathering, increasing the growing rift between the two of them.  
> 3\. Myranda pretty much screwed herself over. Not only did she sicken Mordred, Ailis, and the children of the other lords, but she also sickened the Stark children, meaning that she broke guest right. There is no way Myranda is getting out of this.  
> 4\. Faye, Ramsay and more importantly Roose, now know of Mordred's magical abilities. Even Lord Stark and many of the other lords bore witness to Mordred's power.
> 
> Note: Black vine berries are a fictional berry that I created for the story. Black vine berries do not exist. Since Westeros has fictional plants such as weirwod trees and gilly flowers, I decided to create a poisonous blackberry look alike to add a new element to the story plot.


	10. Prophecy children?

Ramsay just looks emotionlessly at his feet. Both he and Roose are back inside the great hall with Lord Stark and the other Northern Lords. Right now, Maester Luwin is in the room as well. After the incident in the courtyard, the maester measured everything needed for the antidote and handed the supplies off to an old maid who knows a lot about medicinals. That way he could be in the room to discuss what happened in the courtyard. 

The story of what happened in the courtyard has already spread like wildfire. Lady Maege Mormont and Lord Smalljon Umber handed their sick children off to trusted servants so that they could be in the great hall to discuss the courtyard incident. The sick children, including Mordred and Ailis are in the old throne room being tended to by Faye, Bliss, Lady Stark and the other Northern ladies. 

Ramsay just blinks a few times as he looks up. He is barely paying attention to the loud voices in the room. The room is an uproar over what occurred in the courtyard. The bastard of Bolton can imagine that the people gathered in the old throne room are also in an uproar.

“How can the babe possess magical powers?” Lord Greatjon Umber asks no one in particular. “What does this mean?” 

Lord Portan huffs. “The babe is cursed, that’s what it means!” Lord Portan says. Lord Portan then looks over at Roose. “Lord Bolton, why did you bring a  _ cursed _ babe to the gathering?!” 

Roose doesn’t say anything. However, he does look at Lord Portan with some ire. As shocking and surprising as this is, the Lord of the Dreadfort doesn’t think that Mordred having magical abilities is a bad thing. In fact, this is more than Roose could have hoped for in a potential heir. Even though Mordred is very ill right now, he has been strong and healthy ever since he arrived at the Dreadfort. And...he is advanced for a babe and he is already very intelligent. This new development is just icing on the cake. 

Once Roose legitimizes Mordred, the child shall be the  _ perfect _ heir. That is...if the child doesn’t die from his poisoning. 

Lord Dormund of House Dormund stands up. “If the child is truly cursed, then we must do away with him at once!” Lord Dormund says. 

“Silence!” Lord Stark says. “Lord Dormund, please sit down.” 

Lord Dormund blinks a few times as he sits back down. Lord Stark then turns his attention to Roose. “Lord Bolton, did you know that the child possessed such powers?” Lord Stark asks with a tense voice. 

Roose just blinks a few times. “No Lord Stark. I did not.” Roose simply says. “However, there was something I did not mention. Aside from all of the mysterious incidents that narrowly killed or sickened the child, other strange things have been occurring around my castle. Items have been moved without explanation or reason. Items appearing in places that my servants don’t remember leaving them. My grandson having magic would certainly explain this.” 

Roose then looks at Ramsay. “There is one incident that I particularly remember quite well.” Roose says. “One morning, Ramsay and I were having breakfast and Mordred’s wetnurse brought him in so that I could see his progress. While I was having a conversation with Ramsay, his wine goblet was mysteriously moved across the table. It was almost as if the goblet had slid across the table on it’s own.” 

Ramsay almost grits his teeth as realization sets in. It was Mordred who moved his wine goblet that day. His little bastard has had magic this whole time and he didn’t even notice. 

Roose just continues to look at his son. “Ramsay, did you know of this?” Roose asks with a tense voice. 

Ramsay just blinks a few times. “No father, I did not.” Is all that Ramsay mutters. “If the child’s mother knew, she didn’t say anything when she handed him off to me.” 

Lord Stark looks at his castle’s maester. “Maester Luwin, magic isn’t supposed to exist. How can this be?” 

Maester Luwin just sighs. “Theoretically magic shouldn’t exist.” Maester Luwin says. “At least, that’s what I was taught when I was studying to become a maester long ago. Deep down though, I have always believed in the existence of a higher power. Therefore, you could all say that I do believe there are gods. With the stories that I have read regarding gods, magic is almost always mentioned one way or another. So yes, I do suppose that magic does exist.” 

The wise old Maester pauses for a moment before he continues. “I know what I saw out in that courtyard.” Maester Luwin says. “It was magic for sure. However, I cannot say exactly how that is possible. I have never heard stories of anyone exhibiting magical powers ever in my life.” 

All of the lords in the room just share glances with one another. Then, after a few tense moments, Lord Karstark clears his throat. “The stories of the first men describe the children of the forest having magical powers.” Lord Karstark says. “And back then, Westeros was supposed to be full of magic.” 

“The children of the forest  _ disappeared _ when the andals arrived from across the sea nearly six thousand years ago.” Lord Umber says. “The magic in Westeros disappeared along with the children of the forest.” 

Maester Luwin clears his throat. “There is no evidence to support the past existence of the children of the forest or of magic existing in the past.” Maester Luwin says. “However, I do believe that all stories must be rooted in truth. I therefore believe that it is  _ possible _ the children of the forest did exist in the past.” 

“The children of the forest and Westerosi magic have been gone for over six thousand years.” Lord Forrester says. “Why would magic return now? Especially in a babe that hasn’t even seen his first name day?”

Maester Luwin doesn’t say anything. He just sighs and sits back in his chair. “I do not know.” Winterfell’s maester says. “I wish I knew the answer though.” 

Lord Stark leans forward in his chair. “However, I do feel that this certainly must be the work of the old gods.” Lord Stark says. “Trust me, I do not know exactly why the gods would send us a child with magical abilities. As they say, the gods can work in mysterious ways.” 

Roose just blinks a few times. If Mordred was truly sent by the gods, then that means the gods decided to bless his house and bloodline with magic. That should mean something.  _ Right? _

Lord Glover grumbles a little. “But why House Bolton?” Lord Glover asks. “I mean of all the noble houses in the North for a magical child to be born into, why did the gods choose House Bolton?” 

“And why choose the North?” Lord Tallhart asks. “I mean, there are other noble houses in the seven kingdoms, even though they don’t follow the ways of the old gods.” 

“And why choose a vassal house instead of a great house like the Starks, the Baratheons or the Tully’s?” Lord Manderly asks no one in particular. 

Lord Stark just blinks a few times. “As I said, the gods work in mysterious ways.” Lord Stark says. 

Just then, a voice comes from the far side of the room. Everyone turns to see an old woman walking up to the head table. The old woman is wearing servant clothing, her skin is wrinkled, her eyes are dark and her hair is gray. Ramsay recognizes the old woman immediately. She is the servant that Winterfell’s maester handed the ingredients for the antidote off to. 

The old woman stops in front of the table where Rodrik Cassel and Vayon Poole are seated. The old woman looks up Lord Stark. She bows before the lord of Winterfell. “Lord Stark…,” The woman says respectfully as she addresses her lord. “I just came to inform you and maester Luwin that all of the children who were sickened by the black vine berries have taken the antidote and are now resting. Every single one of them, the babes included, should make a full recovery.” 

All of the lords and ladies who have children just begin whispering to one another. Many even let out sighs of relief. Greatjon Umber places a hand on Smalljon’s shoulder. “You hear that son? Little Ned should make a full recovery.” 

Lord Stark and maester Luwin nod. “Thank you for informing us Old Nan.” Lord Stark says as he addresses his elderly servant. “You may go now.” 

“Lord Stark, before I go, there is something I have to say about the ‘magical bastard child’ from House Bolton.” The old woman, old Nan says. “You see Lord Stark, when I was a very young girl, my mother told me a story about a  _ prophecy _ that was made by a greenseer nearly six thousand years ago, around the time the children of the Forest disappeared from Westeros. I think that you might like to hear it.” 

Lord Stark immediately raises a brow. Old Nan is the oldest person at Winterfell. Even though Old Nan is a servant, Lord Stark trusts her intuition and judgement. Besides, he is interested in what Old Nan has to say. 

“A story about a  _ prophec _ y you say?” Lord Stark asks. “Old Nan, do tell me of this story you heard.” 

The other lords and ladies look at one another. Are they really going to listen to a story from a lowly servant? 

Old Nan takes a deep breath. “The greenseer lived around six thousand years ago, right before the children of the forest disappeared. The greenseer had predicted that the children of the forest would disappear along with magic.” 

Lord Glover snorts a little. “Well, the greenseer’s prediction came true. The Children of the forest  _ disappeared _ from Westeros.” 

Old Nan just ignores Lord Glover. “The greenseer also predicted that the long night would come again...and that the dreaded whitewalkers would return. However, the greenseer also predicted that the old gods would send magic back to Westeros in order to aid us against the whitewalkers. And that magic would come in the form of  _ two _ children; a boy and a girl who both carry noble blood in their veins.” 

Roose raises a brow. A boy and a girl?! Hmm, does that mean then that there is a girl out there with magical powers as well? 

The lords in the room all share glances with one another. A few even whisper to each other. Then, lord Portan just starts laughing. “Whitewalkers returning?! That is blasphemy!” 

Lord Stark ignores lord Portan. He just leans back in his chair. The lord of Winterfell has always been told that the Whitewalkers disappeared when his ancestor, the great King Brandon Stark, drove them back to the far reaches of the North. However, the story does mention a child with magical abilities, and a child is  _ exhibiting _ magical powers. Perhaps there is some truth to this story. Besides, the story is actually very intriguing. “Go on Old Nan.” Lord Stark says. “I can tell there is more to this story.” 

Old Nan then looks out one of the windows at the moon outside. “The story didn’t specify if the children would be born on the same night or not. However, according to the story, the children would be born when there is a crescent moon in the sky. And a star, brighter than all the others in the sky, would appear next to it.” 

Maester Luwin’s eyes become wide instantly. “Did you say a star brighter than all the rest and a crescent moon?” 

Old Nan nods. Maester Luwin rubs his chin. “I did see such a sight in the sky about nine moons and one week ago.” Maester Luwin says. Winterfell’s maester then looks at Roose. “Lord Bolton did say that the little lad is just over nine moons as well.” 

Just then, Roose suddenly remembers. He saw such a sight in the sky as well. That was exactly one week before Mordred arrived at the Dreadfort. “I saw such a sight in the sky as well.” Roose says. “That was exactly one week before Mordred arrived at the Dreadfort, and Mordred was supposed to be a week old when he arrived.” 

Lord Tallhart just laughs. “Really?! A  _ prophecy _ child? Destined to save us from whitewalkers?! I’ll believe that when dragons hatch.” He looks to Lord Stark. “Lord Stark, do you truly believe this old hag?” 

Lord Stark frowns. “I do admit that I find the part about the whitewalkers a little hard to believe.” Lord Stark says. “However, Old Nan is the oldest person living in Winterfell. She has many years of experience and lots of wisdom. I do trust her judgement.”

Maester Luwin then narrows his eyes. “Hmm, the story did mention two children though. A boy and a girl. That must mean there is another child out there with magical abilities.” 

“Or has yet to be born.” Lord Stark says. 

Lord Tallhart’s eyes become wide. “Two cursed babes?! Seven hells, the world is coming to an end!” 

Lord Portan stands up. “I still say the boy is dangerous. Lord Stark, you must do away with him at once!” 

Lord Flint of Flint’s finger stands up as well. “I agree with Lord Portan. The child is dangerous. Lord Stark, the child must be done away with!” 

Everyone in the room looks to Lord Stark, especially Roose. Just what will little Mordred’s fate be? 

Lord Stark just clears his throat. “I will do no such thing.” Lord Stark says. “Even if the boy possesses magic, he is still a babe.” 

“Babes grow up!” Lord Portan says. “And just imagine how powerful the child could become if we allow him to grow up?!” 

Roose blinks a few times. Even though he is full of ire towards Lord Portan, the disagreeable lord does have a good point. Mordred will one day grow up and he could indeed become even more powerful than he already is. Just what could Mordred actually be capable of then? And if this old maid’s story does hold truth to it, then what about the girl who is supposed to be born with magical powers? 

Lord Stark looks back at Old Nan. “Old Nan, is there more to this story?” 

Old Nan nods. “The future that the greenseer predicted for the children is not set in stone. It will all depend on what happens during the  _ second _ long night. However, this is what the greenseer at the very least foretold if the children were to successfully defeat the Whitewalkers and live through the long night themselves. The children will marry and become lord and lady over the ancestral castle of the boy’s noble house. The gods shall bless them with many children, all of whom will inherit their parent’s magical abilities...and their land shall prosper for many generations.” 

Roose blinks a few times as he sips some of his wine. Hmm, he actually likes the sound of that. Ramsay on the other hand just trembles a little. He knows that if Mordred was to become lord of the Dreadfort, then that means he will never become the next Lord Bolton. 

Old Nan just smiles as she looks at Lord Stark. “Milord, even if this story is not fully true, the child’s birth means that magic has  _ returned _ to Westeros. We must  _ rejoice _ at the extraordinary gift that the gods have sent to all of Westeros. I do not know why the gods chose to bless House Bolton with such an extraordinary gift nor do I know why the gods chose a bastard child over a legitimate trueborn child. However, I suppose the gods must have their reasons.” 

Old Nan looks at Roose. “Lord Bolton, I hope you understand the incredible blessing that the gods have bestowed upon your house. I may not be able to predict the future, but I can say that I strongly believe your grandson shall be destined for great things. He may be a bastard child, but I strongly believe that he shall bring your house great honor and prestige.” 

Roose takes a quick sip of his wine. “I have already decided upon Mordred’s position as heir of the Dreadfort.” Roose says. “As soon as I return to the Dreadfort, I shall go to King’s landing to ask for legitimization papers for Mordred.” 

Ramsay just clenches his fist and breathes in deep. He just knew his father would eventually say that. Everything that Myranda told him has come true. His bastard son...has stolen his position as heir of the Dreadfort. It’s bad enough that he is going to lose his favorite bed warmer, but now he has lost his rights as well. Ramsay grits his teeth a little.  _ I should have thrown the child to my dogs when I had the chance. _ Ramsay thinks to himself. 

Lady Barbery Dustin just manages a small smirk when she notices Ramsay’s devastated look. The Lady of Barrowtown just cannot help but be grateful that this actually happened the way it did. Her former good-brother has decided to pass Ramsay over as the next Lord Bolton in favor of Ramsay’s own son. This is a small victory for Lady Dustin and the rest of her family. In a way, Domeric has been  _ avenged _ . The half-brother who murdered him in order to inherit the title of Lord Bolton has lost his chance to become the next Lord Bolton to his  _ own son _ . That is enough for Lady Dustin. 

Lord Rodrik Ryswell, who is sitting next to Lady Dustin, also smirks a little in Ramsay’s direction. He also can’t help but inwardly snicker at the irony of the whole thing. Ramsay killed Domeric in order to become Lord Bolton’s heir but he didn’t count on losing his position to his own bastard son. The bastard literally caused his own downfall by bringing little Mordred to the Dreadfort. Now, Ramsay is not going to become the next Lord Bolton, that is for sure. The bastard shall die a bastard, while little Mordred is legitimized as a true Bolton and inherits the Dreadfort. And if this supposed prophecy does have truth to it, then the boy shall be destined for greatness. Dear Domeric has at the very least been partially avenged. 

Ramsay finally just gets up from his seat. He begins walking out of the great hall. Roose narrows his eyes as he watches his son leave. “Ramsay, neither I or Lord Stark has dismissed you yet.” Roose says with an irritated voice. 

However, Ramsay just pays his father no mind and leaves the great hall. Daryn Hornwood just watches the bastard of Bolton leave. “I do have to say that I cannot blame the bastard for being a little shocked and upset. I mean Lord Bolton did just decide to pass the bastard over as his heir in favor of the bastard’s own son. I can imagine that must sting a little.” 

Lord Hornwood lets out a laugh as he looks around the room. “Even if the bastard isn’t happy with the decision, I say it is a good one.” Lord Hornwood says. 

Lord Karstark just sips on some wine. “As do I.” Lord Karstark says. 

“As do I.” Lord Greatjon Umber says. “The little lad will make a fine lord, that is for sure.” 

Lord Stark turns back to Old Nan. “Old Nan, you may be dismissed now.” Lord Stark says. 

Old Nan bows to her lord and swiftly leaves the room. Lord Stark wrings his hands a little. The Warden of the North is certain that it won’t take long for rumors to spread regarding the child’s powers and the Lord of Winterfell is certain that one person in particular will  _ not _ be happy. 

... _ King Robert Baratheon. _

Lord Stark wrings his hands again. Ned knows that his old friend has been paranoid since taking the throne, especially since there are two surviving Targaryen children in exile in the free cities, who could always come back one day to overthrow him. And...the dragons that House Targaryen owned centuries ago were associated with  _ magic _ . The fact that a child with magical powers has been born could make King Robert even more paranoid than he already is. Ned knows that if the king was to perceive little Mordred as some kind of threat to his throne, then there will be nothing stopping him from trying to eliminate the boy. And what if the story is true and there is another child with magical abilities out there, or at the very least yet to be born? 

After a few moments, Ned leans back in his chair again. But then again, Mordred’s magic could be useful in the event that Viserys and Daenerys do come back to take the throne from Robert. And...Mordred could be a very useful kingly advisor when he grows up. 

Maester Luwin sees that the lord of Winterfell is in deep thought. “Milord, is something wrong?” Maester Luwin asks with some concern. 

All of the lords and ladies in the room hear the maester speaking and look to the wise maester and the lord of Winterfell. 

“I am just thinking about king Robert.” Lord Stark says. “The king is paranoid about his throne being stolen by the young Targaryen children. As you know,  _ magic _ is associated with dragons.” 

Many of the lords and ladies present just gasp and begin whispering to one another. Roose’s eyes widen. He and the other nobles understand their liege lords words perfectly. The king of Westeros could actually see Mordred as a threat to his throne. 

Maester Luwin’s eyes become wide almost instantly. He gets what his lord is saying. “Milord, you honestly think that King Robert will perceive Lord Bolton’s grandson as a threat to his throne?” Maester Luwin asks. 

Lord Stark lets out a sigh. “That is certainly a possibility.” Lord Stark says. “However, I also feel that King Robert might see the child as a great asset. The child could always be useful in the event that young Viserys and young Daenerys come back to Westeros in order to steal the throne from King Robert. The boy could also make a great kingly advisor when he grows up.” 

Many of the lords and ladies in the room just look at one another. Their liege lord does have a point. Little Mordred could always become a great asset to the king of Westeros and could always become a good kingly advisor as well. 

Roose blinks a few times. It is true that Mordred is very clever. He could indeed make a good kingly advisor in the future. But...Roose is just wondering one thing. Could Mordred actually become a kingly advisor and still be able to rule the Dreadfort? The lord of the Dreadfort knows that death is inevitable and that he will one day die like his father before him, and Roose is confident that he won’t live to see Mordred to adulthood. And Roose also knows that in order for Mordred to be a kingly advisor, he will have to live in King’s Landing. Just who will rule the Dreadfort if Mordred was to become a kingly advisor? Well, maybe if Mordred was to marry his wife could rule the Dreadfort. But...then that would mean Mordred and his wife would have to be apart. How would that work out?

Lord Karstark then looks at Roose when a thought soon comes to mind. “Lord Bolton, I am sure that you remember that in order for your grandson to be legitimized, you must go to the king himself.” Lord Karstark says. 

Roose nods. “Yes, I do know that.” 

Lord Stark leans back in his chair as he looks at Roose. “As of right now, I have gotten word that the king is in a foul mood. Lord Bolton, here is my advice to you. I would wait until King Robert is in a better mood to ask for legitimization papers for your grandson.” 

Roose narrows his eyes. He does see some sense in what the Warden of the North is saying. If the king truly doesn’t like the thought of a magical child, then asking for legitimization papers for such a child when the king is in a foul mood might be a very bad move. 

Ned then lets out a deep sigh. “However, I am sure that we can agree that it will not take long for the news of the child’s powers to reach King Robert. When that day comes, we will just have to see how the king reacts.” 

Vayon Poole just clears his throat as he looks up at Lord Stark. “Lord Stark, aren’t we going to discuss the fate of Lord Bolton’s servant?” Poole asks with a tense voice. 

Lord Stark clears his own throat. “I say this is the perfect time to do so.” Lord Stark says.

* * *

Faye just stares at Mordred and Ailis’s sleeping forms. They are back in the guest house for the servants. After all of the sick children were treated for the black vine berry poisoning, they were moved into rooms. The Stark children were moved into their bedchambers and the visiting lords children were moved into the guest house. Right now, all of the children are being encouraged to sleep to allow the antidote to do its work. 

Bliss is sitting across the bed from Faye. Bliss touches little Ailis’s cheek along with Mordred’s. The young woman sighs. “They are not sweating anymore. This must mean the antidote is working.” 

Faye just lets out a muffled sob. “I can’t believe this happened.” Faye says with a sorrowful voice. “I shouldn’t have eaten that blackberry tartlet.” 

Bliss reaches across the bed and puts a soothing hand on Faye’s shoulder. “Faye, you didn’t know.” Bliss says soothingly. “None of us did. No one...not even Lord Bolton blames you. This is not your fault. It is Myranda’s.” 

Faye snarls as she thinks of Myranda. “I hate that evil witch!” Faye says. “I wish that I could behead her myself!” 

“Do not worry Faye, there is no way Myranda is going to escape execution.” Bliss says. “And just think, we won’t have to worry about that evil witch trying to harm Mordred ever again.”

Faye just strokes Mordred’s little cheek. “That will be nice.” Faye says admittingly. 

Bliss then looks down at Mordred’s sleeping form. “I just can’t believe what happened in the courtyard. Mordred actually used  _ magic _ to shut the gate.” Bliss says. “He certainly is a very special lad, that is for sure.” 

Faye just shakes her head. “I always knew that Mordred was special, but I could have never imagined that he was this special.”

* * *

Ramsay just grits his teeth as he sits on the bed in the guest chamber that he is going to share tonight with Locke and Steelshanks. Locke and Steelshanks are also in the room. 

Steelshanks just gives Ramsay a slightly sympathetic look. “Sorry about your bed warmer Lord Snow. But I think that even you have to agree that what she did is  _ really _ bad.” 

Ramsay just looks at the floor. He doesn’t know whether he should admit to Locke and Steelshanks that he knew all along that it was Myranda trying to kill his little bastard back at the Dreadfort. Locke and Steelshanks are loyal to his father and they may rat him out to the man if they knew. 

“I always knew that Myranda didn’t care for my little bastard.” Ramsay says with a tense voice. “However, I just never imagined that she could do something like this.” 

Steelshanks just yawns. “Well anyway, I need to use the privy. I will be right back.” 

Steelshanks leaves the room. Locke raises a brow as he looks at his lord's bastard son. “Ramsay, you don’t really seem upset that Myranda tried to murder your son. Why is that?” 

Ramsay looks at Locke. He remembers that he told Locke the truth of what actually happened to Mordred’s mother and that he had contemplated on feeding the babe to his hounds. Locke hasn’t told Lord Bolton about his and Myranda’s games with the servant girls either. Perhaps he can trust Locke. 

“Locke, the truth is...all those mysterious incidents back at the Dreadfort where the little bastard almost ended up dead, that was Myranda.” Ramsay says. “I knew it was her all along. It’s just...I actually regretted bringing the little bastard to the Dreadfort. After a while, it was obvious that my father decided he was a  _ better _ heir than me. Myranda...she promised that she would get rid of the little bastard. However, I never imagined that she was willing to go to these lengths in order to achieve that goal.” 

Locke’s eyes become wide. “Hmm, I do suppose that makes sense. I have seen how your father is with the little bastard. I just somehow knew that you would become  _ jealous _ .” 

Ramsay just grits his teeth and clenches his fists. “I just cannot believe that I lost my position as heir of the Dreadfort to my own bastard son.” Ramsay says with an angry voice as he looks at his feet. “What have I done to deserve this?” 

Locke just leans back against the wall. “You know what, since you revealed your little secret to me, I shall tell you a little secret of mine.” Locke says. “I am sure you know the wetnurse’s own babe. Well, the child...is mine.” 

Ramsay blinks a few times. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. “Hmm, you’re saying that you fathered the wetnurse’s daughter then?” 

Locke nods and grins. “My experience with the wetnurse was quite memorable. Even though she fought me the entire time.” 

Ramsay’s eyes widen slightly. Hmm, Locke is making it sound as if he raped the wetnurse. “Locke, did you actually  _ rape _ the girl?” Ramsay asks. 

Locke grins sadistically. “I did.” Locke says. “I took her out to the forest and had my way with her underneath a tree. The experience was quite satisfying, even though she resisted me the entire time.” 

Just then, Steelshanks returns to the room. The man sprawls out on a bed. “Hmm, I wonder when they are going to execute Myranda.” Steelshanks says. “It’s kind of boring around here.”

* * *

Myranda just sits glumly in her cell. Two guards are standing guard outside. Myranda just closes her eyes. Well, her life is pretty much over. It is truly off with her head now. 

_ If only that cursed little bastard hadn’t closed the gate on me…, _ Myranda thinks sourly to herself.  _ I could have escaped into the wolfswood and been free. _

Then, a set of voices appears at the entrance into the prison cells. Myranda looks up and frowns when she sees who it is. It is Lord Bolton along with Lord Stark. Looks like they are here to prepare her for her execution. 

“I should probably be the one to carry out your sentence since this is my castle and you  _ broke  _ guest right by poisoning my own children.” Lord Stark says with a deathly voice. “However, Lord Bolton has decided to take responsibility for carrying out the sentence since you are his servant and it was his grandson that you meant to murder.” 

Myranda frowns. The way Lord Stark is speaking about the little bastard, it sounds like the child will survive his poisoning. “Something tells me that the little bastard didn’t die.” Myranda says. 

Lord Bolton nods his head. “Mordred and all the other children that you sickened shall live.” Lord Bolton says with clarification. 

Myranda frowns even more. In the end, it was all for nothing. She is losing her head and her life for nothing. She closes her eyes as he thinks of Ramsay.  _ I am sorry Ramsay. I really tried to get rid of the little bastard. _ Myranda thinks solemnly to herself. 

Roose takes a deep breath. “Before I carry out the sentence, I have some questions for you.” Roose says. 

Myranda frowns even more. She has a pretty good idea as to what the lord of the Dreadfort wants to ask her. He probably wants to know if the little bastard’s near death experiences were her doing. 

“I want to ask you about the strange incidents in the Dreadfort nursery.” Roose says with a deathly voice. “As you know, the wetnurse awoke one night to find that someone had poured water on the fires in the hearths. Was it you?” 

Myranda just smirks. Myranda figures that there is no point in hiding it anymore. Besides, she has always wanted to boast about her acts in the nursery. “Yes Lord Bolton, it was me.” Myranda says with a taunting voice. “I had hoped that the little bastard would catch a cold and die, but of course that didn’t happen.” 

Roose narrows his eyes as does Lord Stark. “Was it you who replaced Mordred’s bathwater with filthy river water?” Roose asks. 

“Yes lord Bolton. I did that as well.” Myranda says. 

Roose narrows his eyes again. “What about the time Mordred ended up face down in the cradle? Was that you?” 

“Yes, that was me.” Myranda says with a smirk on her face. 

Roose narrows his eyes even more. “What about the fire?” Roose asks with a deathly voice. “Was that your doing as well?” 

Myranda smirks. “Yes, that was me. Oh, the incident during the cold snap was my doing as well.” Myranda says. 

Roose narrows his eyes. So the woman admits that all the strange incidents in the nursery were her doing. Roose now realizes that he probably should have done away with Myranda after the whole fire incident. 

Myranda smirks some more. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Myranda says with a smirk. “On the night of the second wildling attack, I was actually going to sneak into the nursery and murder both the little bastard  _ and _ the wetnurse’s little bastard. My plan was to make it look as if a wildling had managed to scale the castle walls and break in through one of the nursery windows.” Myranda then frowns. “Oh, but the blacksmith’s wretched little girl was in there so I couldn’t! It is true that I could have murdered the girl  _ as well _ , but I knew her screaming would attract attention.” 

Roose’s eyes widen considerably. The woman actually attempted to try and murder Mordred a fourth time?!

Lord Stark narrows his eyes. “What do you have against the little lad? What has he ever done to you?” 

Myranda grits her teeth. “Being born, that’s what!” Myranda says. “The bastard is forever proof that Ramsay bedded another girl! Ramsay had promised that he would marry me one day, but yet he fathered a child with another girl.” 

Roose narrows his eyes. Ramsay had promised her what? “Did you really think that he was going to make do on that promise?” Roose asks with a deathly voice. “And may I remind you that Ramsay has other bed warmers. You don’t seem to be  _ jealous _ of them.” 

Myranda grits her teeth again. “Of course Ramsay was going to marry me!” Myranda exclaims. “He said I was his most favorite bed warmer and that there was no one else like me! And as for his other bed warmers, I  _ am _ jealous of them, but they never gave Ramsay a  _ son _ like that nobody bastard girl did.” 

Myranda takes a deep breath. “I hoped that when you eventually died that you would legitimize Ramsay on your deathbed.” Myranda says. “Then, if the two of us were already married, then we would become  _ Lord and Lady _ of the Dreadfort. But then we found the little bastard. I just knew he was going to steal Ramsay’s position as heir of the Dreadfort so I figured that I would do us  _ both _ a favor and get rid of the little bastard.” 

Roose’s eyes narrow considerably. So this was Myranda’s reason then. Not only was she jealous of Mordred, but she wanted to end up as  _ Lady of the Dreadfort _ and she knew if Mordred was legitimized instead of Ramsay, then that would never happen. Roose then quickly looks at Lord Stark and nods. Lord Stark calls out to his two servants standing in front of the entrance. The two servants quickly come in and take Myranda out of her cell. 

“I must go fetch my sword.” Roose says with a sinister voice. He leaves the prison cells. 

_...meanwhile...in the Stark family quarters… _

Catelyn Stark is sitting by her oldest son’s bed. Robb is just lying on his bed. The heir of Winterfell just looks at his mother. “Mother, I am fine.” Robb says. “You don’t need to be concerned. Why don’t you go sit with Sansa, Arya, Bran or Rickon for a little while?” 

Just then, there is a knock at the door. Robb looks at the door. “Come in.” Robb says. 

The door opens to reveal Jon and Theon. Robb manages a small smile. However, Catelyn just frowns at the sight of her husband’s bastard son and her husband’s ward. “What do the two of you want?” Catelyn just asks with a hard voice. 

“Now mother, don’t be that way.” Robb says. 

Jon just blinks a few times as he stands by Theon. “Theon and I have come to see how Robb is doing.” Jon says. 

Robb looks at his mother. “Mother, go sit with Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon for a little bit. It will do you some good.” 

Lady Stark eventually sighs and gets up from her seat. She leaves the room. Jon and Theon approach the bed. “How are you feeling?” Jon asks. 

“Better than I was.” Robb says. He then lets out a small laugh. “Ah, the two of you are lucky that you didn’t eat any of those tartlets.” 

“It was on my plate, but I didn’t get the chance to eat it.” Theon says. “I’m glad I didn’t though. Otherwise I would be lying in my bed just like you.” 

Robb then blinks a few times as he looks at his bastard half-brother and friend. “Is it true that Lord Bolton’s bastard grandson has magic powers?” Robb asks with some curiosity. 

“Yes, Jon and I saw it for ourselves.” Theon says with a smirk. “The bitch that poisoned you and everyone else tried to escape Winterfell and the babe  _ stopped _ her.” 

Jon smiles. “Yes, the babe just lifted up his hand like this…,” Jon says as he mimics the motion that baby Mordred made with his hand. “It started glowing green along with his eyes and the gate.” Jon then makes a thrusting motion with one of his hands. “The babe then thrust his hand like this, and the gate slammed shut!” 

Theon then laughs a little. “The bitch actually ran into the gate!” Theon says as he laughs. “Oh, you should have seen the look on the woman’s face when Mikkan and Farlen dragged her back to your father and the other lords.” 

Robb starts laughing. “Seven hells, I wish I could have seen her face!” Robb says. “I am sure it was quite a sight to see though.” 

Jon smiles. “It was.” 

Just then, the three young men hear the sound of a bell ringing outside. Jon and Theon look at the window. “Hmm, sounds like it is time for the bitch’s execution.” Theon says. 

“Shall we?” Jon asks as he looks at Theon. 

Theon just nods. “Oh yes.” Theon says. The Stark’s ward then looks back at Robb. “Jon and I will be back.” Theon says as he follows Jon out the bedchamber door, leaving Robb to rest in the bed.

* * *

Roose takes a deep breath as he approaches the prepared chopping block. The other lords and ladies stand around as well. Lord Stark stands with his wife, who is standing to his right. Lord Stark’s bastard son, Jon and Snow and ward Theon Greyjoy, stand to Lord Stark’s left. 

On the other side of the courtyard, Faye, Bliss, Gale, Gavyn and Calin stand next to each other. Faye is holding Mordred and Bliss is holding Ailis. Bliss looks at Faye. “Finally, the horrible woman shall be gone forever.” Bliss says. 

Then, Lord Stark’s two servants, Mikkan and Farlen drag Myranda over to the chopping block. They carefully lower her head so that it is against the chopping block. Myranda just looks around. She can see Ramsay who is carefully hidden in the crowd. Ramsay momentarily looks at Myranda before he looks down at his feet. Myranda just blinks as she looks at the ground.  _ Ramsay must be a little disappointed that I didn’t manage to kill the little bastard. _ Myranda thinks to herself. 

Myranda then turns her head to see Faye standing in the crowd. The woman is holding Mordred in her arms. Myranda just grits her teeth as she looks at the little bastard in Faye’s arms.  _ This is your fault you little bastard. _ Myranda thinks. 

Roose holds his sword. “I Lord Roose Bolton of House Bolton, vassal of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North...sentence you to die for the crime of attempted murder by poisoning.” Roose says with a calm yet sinister voice. “Any last words?” 

Myranda doesn’t say anything. However, she doesn’t scream or beg for her life either. She doesn’t want to give Lord Bolton the satisfaction of knowing that she is afraid of death. 

Faye and Bliss just watch as Lord Bolton takes a deep breath...and swings his sword. In one swift motion, Myranda’s head falls to the ground with a thud. Lord Stark just blinks as he orders his servants to take the body away. Faye breathes a sigh of relief as the people in the courtyard begin to disperse. Bliss puts a hand on Faye’s shoulder. “It’s over. Myranda is gone.” Bliss says. 

“I know.” Faye says. She then looks down at Mordred, who is nestled in her arms. “Did you hear that Mordred? That horrible woman will never be able to hurt you again.” 

Mordred just gurgles as he shifts within his blanket. Mordred could feel Myranda’s pain as she died, and it was quite satisfying.  _ I hope she rots in hell. _ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Nearby, Ramsay is standing in the shadows of the castle. He frowns as he looks at Myranda’s blood on the ground. Myranda...is gone. His favorite bed warmer and hunting companion is gone. Ramsay grits his teeth as he looks over towards baby Mordred.  _ This is your fault little bastard…, _ Ramsay thinks to himself.  _ Not only have you stolen my position, but now you have caused the death of Myranda. You will be sorry for this. I promise you that much. _

* * *

_...the next day… _

Faye and Bliss just sigh as they sit in the wagon. Gavyn is seated at the front with the reins. Everyone got up early in order to return to the Dreadfort. After many hours of long travel, the foreboding castle is now in sight. 

Up ahead, Ramsay is leading the horse that Myranda rode to Winterfell by a rope. The riderless horse just ambles along as it follows Ramsay. Ramsay just looks ahead with an emotionless look as he rides his horse towards the Dreadfort. At breakfast this morning, the Bastard of Bolton was very silent, which suited everyone just fine. 

Bliss turns to Faye as the contingent approaches the gate. “I wonder what everyone is going to think when they hear that Lord Bolton executed Myranda.” Bliss says. 

Faye shrugs her shoulders as she shifts Mordred in her arms. “I don’t know. However, I am certain that everyone will be shocked when they learn why Lord Bolton executed her.” Faye says. Faye then looks at Mordred, who is just starting to wake up from his nap. “I just wonder what everyone is going to think when they hear that Mordred has magic.” 

Bliss shrugs her own shoulders. “I don’t know.” Bliss says as the contingent arrives at the gate. “I guess we are about to find out.” 

From the top of the tower a guard yells. The gate opens. The contingent ambles into the courtyard. Maester Wolkan is the first to greet them. He nods as Lord Bolton gets down from his horse. “Lord Bolton, I trust your visit to Winterfell was a good one?” Maester Wolkan asks. 

Lord Bolton sighs. “It was an  _ eventful _ affair.” Lord Bolton says. 

Then, Maester Wolkan notices that one of the horses is riderless. His eyes widen as he looks around. He doesn’t see Myranda. “Lord Bolton, where is Myranda?” 

“I executed her.” Lord Bolton simply says as he hands his horse off to a guard. “Come to the great hall, we have much to discuss.” 

Maester Wolkan’s eyes become wide. “You executed Myranda?!” Maester Wolkan asks with shock. “Milord, why?” 

“Come, I will tell you why.” Roose says. 

Maester wordlessly follows the Lord of the Dreadfort into the great hall. Bliss and Gaye are helped out of the wagon by some guards. Ramsay dismounts his horse and sullenly walks to his bedchamber. The entire courtyard is silent. Servants just whisper to one another. 

Mara just walks up to her daughter. “Faye, do tell me what happened at Winterfell. Why did Lord Bolton execute Myranda?” 

Faye just grits her teeth as she looks down at Mordred. Faye then spares a glance at Ailis. “Myranda tried to murder Mordred again and she almost killed Ailis as well.” Faye says with a deathly voice. “Come to the nursery. Bliss and I will tell you everything there.”

* * *

Maester Wolkan just stands silently by the table where Lord Bolton is sitting. The Dreadfort’s maester is trying to process everything just told to him. When Lord Bolton and Maester Wolkan had settled down in the great hall, the Lord of the Dreadfort proceeded to explain the events that had taken place at Winterfell. Maester Wolkan was quite shocked and horrified when his lord explained how Myranda had poisoned the blackberry tartlets and subsequently sickened Mordred, Ailis and nearly all of the little lords and ladies. Maester Wolkan was also shocked when Lord Bolton told him of what occurred in the courtyard when Myranda tried to escape Winterfell. 

“So little Mordred has magic…,” Maester Wolkan says with some wonder. “That would certainly explain some of the happening within the castle.” 

Roose takes a sip of his hot mulled wine. “It certainly would.” Roose says. 

Just then, Missy and Old Freya walk into the room. Old Freya clears her throat. “Lord Bolton, young Missy and I have a confession to make.” Old Freya says with her crooning voice. “Young Missy and I knew of little Mordred’s powers. However, we knew that no one would believe us so we kept it to ourselves.” 

Lord Bolton narrows his eyes considerably. He doesn’t like his servants keeping secrets from him. But then again, he probably wouldn’t have believed them if they had said something without having witnessed it himself.

“Old Freya and I found out on the day of the second wildling attack.” Missy says with a small voice. “After the attack ended, my brother and Faye left the nursery. I was left alone with Mordred and Ailis. Mordred...used his powers to make a toy float into the cradle. Later that night, Old Freya came into the nursery while Faye was helping to tend to the wounded in the great hall. Old Freya has always said that she believes in the stories she tells so I decided to tell her about Mordred’s powers. I managed to convince Mordred to show Old Freya his powers.” 

Old Freya smiles. “It was quite a sight Lord Bolton.” Old Freya says. Old Freya then looks at Missy. “Child, do tell Lord Bolton and Maester Wolkan what happened in the nursery during the attack.” 

Missy takes a deep breath. “Gavyn and Faye were knocked unconscious by a wildling.” Missy says as she begins to recount what happened in the nursery that day. “I was hunched over the cradle, trying to shield Mordred and Ailis. The wildling was getting ready to kill us so I just closed my eyes, but nothing happened. Then, I heard a thud and I looked to see that the wildlign was lying in the hallway, as if some unseen force had thrown him back. Then, another wildling arrived and tried to kill us. However, the wildling went  _ flying _ back into the hallway. The two wildlings just stared at Mordred...and Mordred just stared right back at them. Both wildlings then ran away.” 

Roose’s eyes do widen considerably. He remembers how Mordred closed the gate at Winterfell. Hmm, it sounds very likely that Mordred used his powers to save himself, Missy, the wetnurse and her babe, and Gavyn that day. The fact that Mordred was able to use his powers to throw _two_ wildlings through the air is quite remarkable. 

Old Freya smiles. “Milord, magic has returned to Westeros. Mordred is a true gift from the old gods. We must rejoice.” 

Roose takes a sip of his wine. His old maid is saying the things that Lord Stark’s maid said. However, Roose just waves his hand. “The two of you are dismissed. There is something that I need to discuss with Maester Wolkan.” 

Old Freya and Missy both bow and leave the room. Roose turns back to his castle’s maester. “One of Lord Stark’s maids mentioned a story about a prophecy made by an old greenseer nearly six thousand years ago.” Roose says as he sips some more of his wine. “According to the greenseer the long night would come again and the whitewalkers will return.” 

Maester Wolkan’s eyes become wide. “The long night?! Whitewalkers?!” The Dreadfort’s maester asks with some shock. 

Roose sips some more of his wine. “The prophecy foretold of two children being born with magical abilities who would save Westeros from the whitewalkers. A boy and a girl who both carry noble blood in their veins.” 

Maester Wolkan’s eyes become wide. “Milord, then that means there is a female child out there with magical abilities.” The Dreadfort’s maester says.

“Or has yet to be born.” Roose says. “And according to the prophecy, if the boy and girl successfully repel the whitewalkers and survive the second long night, the two of them will supposedly marry and become lord and lady over a land." 

Maester Wolkan’s eyes become wide again. “Milord, do you really think that this prophecy has any truth to it?” 

Roose takes a sip of his wine. “I do find the part about the long night and the whitewalkers a little far fetched myself. However, Mordred does have magic. I do believe there could be a possibility of this story being true.” 

Maester Wolkan blinks a few times. Could little Mordred actually be the boy described in this supposed prophecy? And what about the girl that is described in the prophecy? Could little Mordred actually have a  _ destined _ magical bride out there waiting to be discovered? 

After a few minutes, Maester Wolkan wrings his hands. He does have one nagging question in the back of his mind. Lord Bolton had told of how Myranda confessed to all of the strange incidents in the nursery. One thought is running through the wise maester’s head. Why didn’t anyone see Myranda entering and leaving the nursery? 

“Milord, there is something that just doesn’t make sense.” Maester Wolkan says. “If Myranda was truly responsible for all of the strange incidents in the nursery, then why didn’t anyone see her going and leaving? The doorway that leads to the nursery is set in the courtyard. Surely someone would have seen her going to and leaving the nursery. Why didn’t anyone see her?” 

Roose frowns as he takes another sip of his wine. That is a good question indeed. Just how did Myranda manage to sneak into the nursery unseen?

* * *

Mara and Acelyn just watch with wide eyes as Mordred makes a few toys float in the air. The child giggles with delight. 

“Incredible…,” Acelyn says. “The babe certainly is very special.” 

Mara smiles. “I cannot imagine Lord Bolton not making Mordred his heir after this.” 

Faye is sitting nearby with Ailis. “And just to think that we won’t have to worry about Myranda anymore.” Faye says with a smile. 

Bliss then looks at the doorway. “The thing that really gets me about the whole thing is how Myranda managed to sneak into the nursery without being seen by anyone.” Bliss says with narrowed eyes. “Just why didn’t anyone see her entering and leaving the nursery?” 

Mara looks at the doorway. “Aye, that is a good question indeed.” 

Just then, the sound of yelling comes from outside. It is Old Freya’s eight year old great-granddaughter Ann. Just then, the child runs into the room. Ann is a pretty young girl with long black hair, dark gray eyes and pink lips. She is following the Dreadfort’s cat, which is carrying a ball of yarn in it’s mouth. 

“Come here you darn cat! Give me back my yarn!” Ann says with frustration. 

Faye, Bliss, Mara and Acelyn all look at each other. The Dreadfort cat has a habit of stealing balls of yarn from the young girls who are just learning to knit. 

Ann finally catches up with the naughty cat. She takes the ball of yarn back. Then, the cat sees the little crocheted raven that Mordred likes to play with. The cat snatches up the toy and runs out of the room. Bliss immediately runs after the cat. 

“Get back here!” Bliss says as she follows the cat up and down the hallway. “That is not yours!” 

The cat runs into the dark end of the hallway. Bliss just grits her teeth as she grabs a torch from a nearby wall. “Kitty, come back here.” 

Bliss looks around at the floor, trying to find the naughty cat. “Here kitty.” Bliss says. “Here kitty.” 

Then, Bliss reaches the end of the hallway and looks to the left wall. She gasps at what she sees. There is an opening in the wall. Bliss holds the torch closer to the opening. The opening leads into a dark tunnel. Then, it finally occurs to her. This must be how Myranda managed to sneak into the nursery unseen. 

“Mara! Acelyn! Come here quick!” Bliss says. 

Within moments, Both Mara and Acelyn are by Bliss’s side. The women gasp as they stare at the tunnel. “My word, there is a tunnel that we don’t know about.” Mara says with some surprise and shock. 

Bliss then has an idea. She takes the torch and goes back to stand by the nursery door. “Mara, Acelyn, can you see me?” 

“Yes we can.” Mara calls out. 

“Well, I can’t see the two of you.” Bliss says with a sigh. “It is too dark down there.” 

Faye comes to stand beside Bliss. Faye frowns. “The evil witch must have been standing there waiting for me to leave.” Faye says with realization. “To think that she was standing there and I didn’t even know it. Uh, just the thought of it makes me so angry!” 

Bliss puts a hand on Faye’s shoulder. “Faye, Myranda is  _ dead _ .” Bliss says. “You don’t have to worry about her ever again.” 

Faye takes a deep breath as she takes in Bliss’s words. It is true. Myranda is gone. The horrible woman will never have the opportunity to harm Mordred ever again.

* * *

Roose sits back in his chair. It is night now. Almost everyone in the castle is sound asleep. Right now, the Lord of the Dreadfort is thinking over what happened yesterday night. 

Ramsay is sitting in a chair close by. Ramsay just grumbles as he sips the last of his wine. “So, you are passing me over as heir in favor of Mordred then? I am your son. I should be the one you want to legitimize!” 

Roose looks at his son. “You saw what the boy did at Winterfell. If he becomes the next lord Bolton, he will surely bring honor, glory and prestige to House Bolton.” 

Ramsay just sets his empty wine goblet down. “I guess that means I am no longer your heir.” Ramsay says. “I am just a  _ spare _ in case something happens to Mordred.” 

Roose sips some more of his wine. “The gods blessed our bloodline with magic. That must mean something.” 

Ramsay then remembers what the old hag at Winterfell said. “Hmm, that old hag at Winterfell said that supposedly a  _ girl _ shall be born with magic as well, which means that another noble house shall be blessed by the gods.” 

Roose narrows his eyes. “The story is questionable.” Roose says. “However, if it is true, then yes...another house shall be blessed with magic. However, Mordred is  _ male _ which means once he is legitimized...he will carry on the Bolton name once I am dead and in the ground. And do not forget the other part of the supposed prophecy. According to the prophecy...if the magical boy and girl survive into adulthood, they might very well go on to marry. Can you imagine just how powerful House Bolton could become if it had both a lord _and_ a lady with magical powers? And if Mordred and this ‘prophesied’ girl go on to marry, they will supposedly be blessed with many children, all of whom will supposedly be blessed with magic as well. This shall greatly increase the power of House Bolton.” 

Ramsay just gets up and starts pacing around the table. “So you are saying that I am not _good enough_ to be your heir all because I don’t have magic like my  _ son _ ?” Ramsay asks. 

“Like all lords, I wish for my bloodline to continue.” Roose says. “I also want nothing but glory for my house. Surely you must understand that?” 

Ramsay just frowns as he crosses his arms. “Oh, I understand it perfectly. I am not  _ good enough _ to rule House Bolton!” 

Ramsay gets up from the table. “I am retreating to my bedchamber now.” 

Roose watches his son leave. The Lord of the Dreadfort just sits back in his seat. He thinks of the potential future. Even if the prophecy isn’t completely true, the Lord of the Dreadfort still thinks that Mordred will bring House Bolton honor, glory and prestige. And if there is a magical girl out there that Mordred may one day marry, then that will seriously increase the power and prestige of House Bolton. 

However, after a few minutes, Roose frowns when he thinks of something. What if this prophesied magical girl is a  _ bastard _ like Mordred? What would happen then? The Lord of the Dreadfort can’t imagine a man from a noble house legitimizing a bastard born daughter. Father’s will of course legitimize bastard born sons if they have no true born sons, but bastard born daughters are an entirely different story. Sensible lords don’t legitimize bastard daughters, unless they absolutely have no children, or see a potential opportunity to secure a good marriage alliance. Roose sips some more of his wine. Hmm, but then again, a child with magical powers is practically unheard of. If a lord was to see that a bastard born daughter has magical abilities, he may very well pounce on the opportunity to increase his house’s power by legitimizing the girl in order to secure a marriage alliance. 

Roose blinks a few times as he gets his wine goblet down on the table. Then again, the prophecy could be wrong about a girl with magical powers being born. Even if the birth of a magical girl doesn’t come to pass, Roose is still certain that he would be able to find a suitable bride for Mordred. Once Mordred is legitimized and rumors spread of his abilities, lords would probably jump at the opportunity to increase their house’s power and prestige and bombard the Lord of the Dreadfort with marriage proposals for his grandson. 

Roose then just blinks a few times. He looks out at the moon. Just one thought runs through his head. 

Could his grandson really have a  _ destined _ future bride with magical powers out there waiting to be discovered or be born?

* * *

The nursery is quiet. Both Faye and Ailis are sleeping soundly on the far side of the room. Mordred is tucked cozily into his cradle. Mordred just shuffles within his wrappings as he dreams. 

_ Mordred, looks around at the forest surrounding him. This is the same forest in which he first encountered Lady Life and Rebirth. Mordred looks up. He is standing in front of the strange white trunked and red leafed tree again.  _

_ “Mordred…,” A mysterious voice suddenly rings out.  _

_ Mordred quickly turns to see Lady Life and Rebirth standing a few feet away. Lady Life and Rebirth smiles. “I am glad to see that you survived. Trust me, I actually never thought the woman would try to do something like that. I would have warned you if I had. But perhaps this was meant to happen. Lord Bolton now knows of your powers. Your legitimization as a true Bolton is guaranteed now.”  _

_ Mordred just smiles. “I am just glad that Myranda is gone forever.” Mordred says. “I know this sounds like a terrible thing to say, but I do hope she rots in hell.”  _

_ “That is very understandable given all the times she tried to murder you.” Lady Life and rebirth says.  _

_ Mordred then thinks of his past life. He becomes sad when he thinks of Arthur, Merlin/Emrys, Guinevere, and the rest of the Knights of the round table. The reborn druid wonders what his old companions would think of him becoming a lord. Mordred even thinks of Morgana. Before she turned evil, the young druid looked up to Morgana like a big sister figure. Even after he heard that Morgana had betrayed Camelot, Mordred had hoped that she could see past the lies told to her and find it in her heart to forgive and return to Camelot. Mordred had always hoped that Morgana could somehow redeem herself in the eyes of Camelot, but sadly that never happened.  _

_ “I see that you are thinking of something.” Lady Life and rebirth says. “Tell me, what are you thinking of?”  _

_ Mordred sighs. “I was just thinking about my past life.” Mordred says. “I was just thinking of my old friends. I just can’t help but wonder what they would think of my new life and my future as a lord.”  _

_ Lady Life and Rebirth cocks her head. “Are you thinking of one person in particular?” Lady Life and Rebirth asks.  _

_ Mordred takes in a deep breath. “Yes, I am thinking of a girl who was like an older sister to me. She...she became evil and plotted to destroy Camelot and I joined her. I betrayed my fellow knights and even though I have a new life and a new future...I still regret what I did. I just wish that I could take everything back.”  _

_ Mordred looks down at his hands. “It’s true that I wish to become Lord of the Dreadfort. But still...I would give anything to be back with my fellow knights of Camelot. They cared about me and I cared for them.”  _

_ “I see your desire to be reunited with those who were once dear to you.” Lady Life and Rebirth says. “However, your story in this world is just beginning. And do not worry, you shall be reunited with someone who was once dear to your heart.”  _

_ Mordred looks up from his hands. He blinks a few times. “What do you mean by that?” Mordred asks.  _

_ However, Lady Life and Rebirth just walks away. The dream slowly fades.  _

Mordred’s small eyes flicker open. He looks around. He is in his cradle. Mordred then silently sits up and looks over the edge of the cradle. Faye is still sleeping. Mordred lies back down in his cradle. He just cannot get Lady Life and Rebirth’s last words out of his head. 

Just what did she mean by he will be reunited with someone who was once dear to his heart?


	11. The Vale

Faye blinks a few times as she sits in her chair. The young woman is knitting with some dark gray yarn. It has been three days since the feast at Winterfell. Three days since Mordred and Ailis’s poisoning from the black vine berries and Myranda’s execution. Neither Faye or the other servants miss the cruel and sadistic maid one bit. 

The only person within the Dreadfort who appears to miss Myranda...is Ramsay. Ever since the contingent got back from Winterfell, Ramsay has seemingly been sulking in his bedchamber. He barely comes out, and when he does it is only to eat his meals or use the privy. Then, once Ramsay is done eating or doing his business, he goes right back to his bedchamber to sulk some more. 

Faye just takes a deep breath and smiles to herself. The woman doesn’t care what Lord Snow thinks about Myranda’s execution. The evil maid got what she deserved. 

Faye then thinks of Mordred’s possible legitimization. Faye would have thought that Lord Bolton would have sent a legitimization request for Mordred to the King by now. However, nothing has happened, which has confused Faye greatly. Then, this morning, when Faye asked Maester Wolkan about it, the wise maester told Faye something very shocking. Apparently, Lord Stark told Lord Bolton to wait on the request for legitimization papers. 

According to Maester Wolkan, King Robert hates the Targaryens, and the dragons that House Targaryen owned in the past were associated with magic. And...from what Lord Stark told Lord Bolton at the time, the king was in a foul mood due to a spat with his queen. Apparently, the Lord of Winterfell warned his vassal that if the King learned of Mordred’s magic while in a bad mood...the end result might not be pretty. So...for now...Lord Bolton is going to wait until the King calms down before he goes to King’s Landing to ask for legitimization papers. Now that Faye is thinking more about it, it probably is a good idea. Afterall, it would be horrible if King Robert decided to  _ execute _ little Mordred all because the little lad has magic. 

Nearby, Missy is stacking some wood in the woodbox. The girl hums as she neatly stacks the pieces of wood on top of each other. 

In the middle of the room, Mordred and Ailis are playing on the fur rug. Mordred giggles as he lifts up his hand, which glows green. The crocheted raven floats up into the air along with the little bear made of rabbit fur. The two toys start moving around in small circles. It literally looks as if the two toys are chasing each other. 

Missy turns to see Mordred using his magic. “He’s doing it again Faye.” 

“That he is.” Faye says as she looks up from her knitting. “Mordred sure can put on a show.” 

Faye blinks as she watches Mordred use his magic to make the toys move around in the air. Ailis giggles and claps her tiny hands at the ‘show’. Faye just smiles and leans back in her chair. Ever since Faye and the others got back from Winterfell a mere two days ago, Mordred has been freely showing off his magic to everyone and anyone who is willing to watch. The displays that the child puts on with the toys in the nursery are quite entertaining to watch. 

And, making objects move is not the only power that Mordred has displayed within the last two days. As it turns out, Mordred has the power to  _ heal _ . 

The day after the contingent returned to the Dreadfort, Missy was tending to the fire in the main hearth when a spark flew up and burned her on the hand. Mordred was nearby and he simply walked up to Missy and grabbed the hand that had been burned. Mordred put his hand over the burn, and used his magic. When Mordred removed his hand, the burn along with the pain...was gone. Afterwards, when Missy and Faye told Lord Bolton and the other servants of what Mordred had done, everyone was amazed. 

Faye then notices Mordred looking towards the southern corner of the room. Faye frowns. Hmm, ever since Mordred arrived at the Dreadfort, Faye, has noticed that Mordred likes to look towards the south. Whenever Faye takes the babies out on strolls around the castle, Mordred also looks towards the south. However, over the last two days, Mordred seems to be looking towards the south more and more. And whenever he does, he just stares. It’s almost as if he is waiting for something to happen. 

Just what is going on with the child? 

Mordred blinks a few times as she stares at the southern corner of the room. Ever since Lady Rebirth visited his dreams two nights ago, Mordred has just had this  _ compulsion _ to look towards the south. 

_ Why do I feel the need to look South? _ Mordred thinks.  _ Whenever I look in that direction, I almost feel this longing to go there. It’s almost as if there is something there waiting for me. But...what could it be? _

* * *

_...The Vale… _

Mya Stone sighs as she urges Whitey, the white mule, forward to Stone, the first Waycastle. Mya looks behind her to make certain that the three travelers she is escorting are doing alright. The three travelers, all of them young men, are riding mules as well. 

After a few minutes, Mya and her charges reach the waycastle. Mya dismounts Whitey and motions for the travelers to dismount their mules as well. Once the three young travelers have dismounted, Mya leads them over to a water trough. “It is advisable to let the mules rest for a bit and drink some water before you all continue on your way to Snow.” Mya says. 

The travelers all nod in understanding and let their mules drink from the trough. Then, a few stable hands bring some hay and put it into a nearby manger. Mya then turns to look at the Eyrie, which stands proudly on top of the giant’s lance. The castle’s white stone walls shimmer in the sunlight. Mya just can’t help but smile at the sight. The castle of House Arryn is certainly a spectacular sight to behold on sunny days like this. 

One of the travelers, a young man, simply looks up at the Eyrie with some awe and wonder. “So that is the Eyrie then? My, it sure is a sight to behold.” 

“Yes, it certainly is.” Mya says. 

“Mya.” A new yet familiar voice quickly says. 

Mya turns to see Lord Nestor Royce, the High Steward of the Vale and Lord of the Gates of the Moon, standing nearby. The man has a broad body, graying black hair around the sides of his head, which is bald on top. Lord Nestor’s beard is short and grayish-black in color. The Lord of the Gates of the Moon also has deep-set, roundish almond shaped eyes, which are a slate gray color. Just below Lord Nestor’s right temple is a small black mole. 

Mya immediately bows. “Lord Nestor.” Mya says with a respectful tone of voice. “I trust your trip to the Eyrie was a good one?”

The keeper of the Gates of the Moon usually makes a trek up the Giant’s Lance once a week to see how the maids are upkeeping the Eyrie for Lord and Lady Arryn. Lord Nestor usually leaves early in the morning and is usually back home by midday. 

The Keeper of the Gates of the moon simply nods. “Aye, it was.” Lord Nestor says. “However, I am ready to return home.” 

Mya nods in agreement. “Aye, so am I, my Lord.” Mya says. She then looks up at the sky. It is nearly midday. “Besides, I must return to the castle to feed my daughter.” 

Mya then turns to Ossy, who is waiting with his own mule. “Ossy, take these people up to Snow.” Mya says. “I must get back to the Gates of the moon. It is time for my daughter’s midday feed.” 

Mya turns to the group of people that she led up the path. “This is Ossy. He shall take you up to Snow, our second waycastle.” 

Ossy simply nods and smiles at the group of travelers as they begin making their way up the stony steps leading to Snow. Mya turns back to Lord Nestor. “Are you ready, milord?” 

Lord Nestor nods as he gets onto his own mule. “Aye, that I am.” 

Mya gets back onto Whitey and starts descending the stony steps with Lord Nestor right behind her.

* * *

Mya breathes in deep as Whitey descends the last stony step. Lord Nestor is right behind her. The Gates of the Moon is now in sight. In the courtyard, Servants scurry about, trying to get chores done. 

Mya and Lord Nestor approach the stables. All of the stable hands immediately bow to Lord Nestor. “Lord Nestor, welcome back.” One of the stablehands says with a respectful tone of voice. “How was your trip to the Eyrie, milord?

Lord Nestor laughs as he dismounts his mule. “It was a good trip.” Lord Nestor says. 

Even though the High Steward of the Vale is usually very gruff and serious at times, he does have a more relaxed and jubilant side as well. 

Lord Nestor then hands his mule off to the stablehand. “See to it that the mules are given food and water.” Lord Nestor says as he quickly motions to Whitey, who still has Mya sitting upon his back. 

“Of course, milord.” The stable hand says. Mya quickly dismounts Whitey and hands the white mule off to the stablehand. 

As the stablehand leads Whitey and Lord Nestor’s mule towards the stables, Mya turns her attention back to the castle. She takes a deep breath as she thinks of her daughter and lover. Mya never thought that she would be able to find love again after Mychel’s marriage to Ysilla Royce. However, fate had other plans for the bastard girl of the Vale. 

It was three years ago when Mya and Mychel confessed their feelings for one another. Mya was fifteen name days and Mychel was seventeen name days. However, before the two young lovers could become intimate, Mychel’s father, Lord Redfort, declared that Mychel was to be betrothed to Ysilla Royce once he was knighted. Not wanting to cause a scandal, Mychel decided that he and Mya needed to break off their secret relationship. Even though Mya was heartbroken, she sadly agreed to break off the relationship. Then, the day after Mychel’s eighteenth name day, he was knighted and the marriage between him and Ysilla took place. Mya, sixteen at the time, remembers watching the occasion and only feeling depression and sourness. However, when Mya shared her feelings with a few of the servants afterwards, she realized that she had probably been foolish to think that Lord Redfort would allow Mychel to marry her. Afterall, she is just a  _ bastard girl _ born to a lowborn mother. Men of nobility simply do not marry bastard girls, lest they want to bring shame and ridicule to their noble house. After that realization, Mya simply decided that she wouldn’t fall in love with another man of nobility to save herself from more heartbreak. However, what Mya didn’t count on was falling for a young bastard born man the same age as her. The young bastard’s name...is Declan Stone. 

Declan Stone is the nephew of Lord Yohn Royce of Runestone. Declan’s father was Daeron Royce, Lord Yohn’s now deceased younger brother. Daeron was his older brother’s master-at-arms due to his excellent sword and archery skills. Originally, Lord Yohn had hoped that his younger brother would become a knight. However, Daeron didn’t quite have it in him to become a knight, and he just didn’t want to be bound by so many oaths. Then, when Daeron was twenty namedays, Lord Yohn’s master-at-arms died. Knowing his brother’s excellent sword skills and his loyalty to House Royce, Lord Yohn made his younger brother his new master-at-arms. During his days as Lord Yohn’s master-at-arms, Daeron trained his nephews and other aspiring knights and soldiers at Runestone. When Daeron wasn’t training the young ones in the courtyard or serving his brother, he would stand guard at the castle walls and go out into the forests to hunt for his household. 

Declan’s mother was a servant girl named Anya who worked as a maid for Lord Yohn’s household. Despite Anya being lowborn, Daeron fell deeply in love with her. Then, during a feast at Runestone, Daeron and Anya snuck into Daeron’s bedchamber and made love, resulting in the conception of Declan. As the months and months passed, it was clear that Anya was with child. As Anya had been a virgin when Daeron made love to her, he of course admitted that he had fathered Anya’s child. Then, when Declan was born, Daeron wasn’t like other lords when it comes to bastard children. Daeron was a loving and attentive father to his bastard son, especially after the death of Anya from sweating sickness around three years after Declan’s birth. Even after Anya died, Daeron didn’t marry, which goes to show just how much he loved the woman. 

Then, three moons after Declan’s eighth nameday, Daeron was tragically killed in an ambush by hostile hill tribesmen. On that day, Daeron and Lord Yohn were escorting a caravan of visitors from Runestone to the Gates of the moon, when the hill tribesmen suddenly emerged from the forest and attacked. While defending his brother and the caravan, Daeron was killed in the chaos. After the tragic death of his younger brother, Lord Yohn decided to send the now truly orphaned Declan to be fostered by House Royce’s cadet branch at the Gates of the Moon. The lord of Runestone had hoped that despite his nephew’s bastardry, the boy would at the very least have a chance to become a knight, unlike his late father. However, despite Declan having excellent archery and sword skills, it became apparent that as time passed, the young orphan just didn’t quite have it in him to become a knight, much to Lord Yohn’s disappointment. However, at the same time, Lord Nestor was pleased with what skills Declan did have and thus decided not to give up on his young relative. Aside from having good sword and archery skills, Declan also showed good mule handling and guide skills. Lord Nestor thus decided to not only make Declan a teacher to aspiring young guards at the castle but also a mule handler and guide, which Declan whole heartily agreed to as he actually enjoys working with the mules. Declan began his guide work just a few months after Mychel and Ysilla’s wedding, which brought Mya and Declan into greater contact with each other. Sure the two young bastards had known each other since childhood, but Mya simply had eyes for Mychel at that time. However, as Mya no longer had Mychel, she began to notice Declan more and more. Soon enough, Mya realized that she was developing strong feelings for Declan. In fact, Mya found that was even more in love with Declan than she had been with Mychel and for good reason. 

“Mya, my love.” A voice suddenly says from the stables. 

Mya turns to see a young man with short black hair, blue-grey eyes, deep-set roundish almond shaped eyes, light skin and high cheekbones. Mya smiles as the young man smiles back at her. “Declan.” Mya says. 

The members of House Royce have no set hair color or eye color. However, most members either have black or dark brown hair and either slate gray or blue-grey eyes. Members of House Royce usually have deep-set roundish almond shaped eyes, along with light skin and high cheekbones. Women born with Royce blood also have plump red lips and thick eye-lashes. Royce women also have slightly wavy hair. With Declan’s short black hair, deep-set roundish almond shaped eyes which are a beautiful blue-grey color, light skin and high cheekbones, Mya has actually found him to be more handsome than Mychel. Declan also has a smile which can light up any room, which is what Mya loves most about him. Mya has also discovered that Declan is even more courteous, chivalrous and even sweeter than Mychel was. Declan is always calling Mya beautiful and he’s always giving her gifts of flowers that he finds in the rocky terrain. 

Mya smiles as Declan gives her a passionate kiss. Mya would have to say that Declan is the love of her life now. Sure Mychel will always be her first love, but those days have passed. Mya...has truly moved on from Mychel. Mya and Declan have even welcomed their own little one into the world. A beautiful daughter who is now just over nine moons old. Mya smiles as she thinks of her and Declan’s baby girl. 

Morgana.  _ Their _ little Morgana. 

Morgana was conceived after a feast at the Gates of the Moon. After the feast, Mya and Declan went into Mya’s bedchamber and subsequently made love, and Mya thus lost her virginity. Then, moons later, Mya started to feel unwell and she was gaining weight. The Maester living at the Gates of the Moon examined Mya and discovered that she was in fact carrying a babe within her. Lord Nestor of course asked Mya about the father and Declan immediately claimed responsibility as Mya was a virgin when he made love to her. 

Then, the night before Morgana was born, Mya had a strange dream about holding a baby girl. And...in the dream, the servants around Mya called the baby girl  _ Morgana _ . Then, the next night, Mya gave birth to her daughter...and the baby looked just like the one from her dream. That is how her daughter came to be named Morgana. Many of the servants raised a brow when Mya later announced her new daughter’s name, but Declan said it was unique and that he liked it. 

Declan just smiles at his lover. “Morgana is in your bedchamber being looked after by Ros. You better hurry. You know how impatient Morgana gets when she isn’t fed on time.” 

Mya just smiles. “I know. I am headed to my bedchamber now.” 

Mya just watches Declan walk back into the stable to take care of the mules. The bastard girl of the Vale then takes a deep breath as she enters the castle. The fact that she was now carrying a child within her brought about many changes to her routine and lifestyle. The first big change was that she had to quit her mule handling activities until the birth of her child. Lord Nestor had told Mya that even though she was confident in her abilities on the paths leading up to the Eyrie, the extra weight that she was about to carry would it make it more difficult for the mules to carry her up the path, and that would likely result in a  _ fatal _ accident. Lord Nestor also reminded Mya that some of the mules do kick and if a mule was to kick her in the stomach, that would most definitely result in a miscarriage. Lord Nestor also advised Mya that after the birth of her babe, she would have to stay in the castle or as close to the castle as possible as her future babe would need feedings every few hours. However, once the babe turned six moons old, he or she would be old enough to start solid foods, and would thus not need Mya as much. Mya could then return to her normal duties given a few adjustments to her routine to allow her to be able to nurse her child in the morning, midday and at night. Then, while Mya and Declan work outside with the mules, the child could be looked after by other servants. So far, the setup works perfectly. However, Mya has to be mindful about how long she is away from Morgana. Morgana has shown herself to be very impatient when it comes to her feedings. 

Mya then closes her eyes as she begins walking towards the castle. The birth of her daughter ended up bringing about a revelation about her own birth, which was quite shocking for Mya. As it turns out, the king Robert Baratheon...is her father. It was about five days after the birth of Morgana when a small wooden package arrived from King’s Landing...and it was addressed to Mya. Inside was a small bag with 20 gold dragons inside, which shocked and surprised Mya. That is when Lord Nestor told his young servant the truth. King Robert had fathered Mya while he was in the Vale being fostered by Lord Jon Arryn; a few years before he subsequently became king of Westeros. Lord Nestor then revealed that he had decided to write to the king regarding the birth of Morgana as he felt the king had the right to know. The small gift of coins was probably the king’s way of acknowledging the birth of his  _ granddaughter _ . 

Mya had always known that her father had to be of noble birth as she carries a bastard surname. However, the bastard girl of the Vale never imagined that her father would be the king himself. 

Mya just blinks as she passes by the great hall. Inside the great hall, servants are preparing the large wooden table for Lord Nestor and his children so that they can have their midday meal. A large wooden platter holds steaming biscuits; fresh from the stone oven. On another wooden platter are wedges of cheese along with some red colored juicy looking apples. On another platter are golden honey cakes, which are one of Lady Myranda Royce’s favorite cakes; aside from lemon cakes of course. 

Then, Mya watches as Edwyn, the cook, brings in a silver tureen full of steaming stew. Up on the mountains, the air can be very dry and chilly, even during the summer. That is why even during summer years, Lord Nestor loves a good bowl of hot stew on days when he visits the Eyrie. And...one of Lord Nestor’s favorite stews is Edwyn’s ‘special stew’. Edwyn’s  _ special stew _ is a very hearty mutton, vegetable and barley based stew. Edwyn’s special stew starts out with fine cuts of mutton. Edwyn also uses bacon along with the offal from sheep such as the heart, kidneys and tongue. Sheep hearts, kidneys and tongues are not very desirable as most people prefer the taste of offal from cows. However, one of Edwyn’s special gifts is that he can seemingly make anything taste delicious. Edwyn starts by chopping the mutton, bacon and offal very finely. Then, Edwyn cooks all of the chopped meat together in a mixture of butter and olive oil, along with some onions, garlic, and mushrooms. Then, after the meat, onions, garlic and mushrooms have cooked down and become very fragrant, Edwyn adds come very fragrant broth made from the sheep bones and some herbs. After the meaty mixture has simmered for some time, Edwyn adds the barley and the vegetables, along with some parsley, sage and a mixture of red, white and black pepper. The stew is very fragrant and delicious, and Lord Nestor absolutely loves the stuff. He requests it on the days that he makes trips to the Eyrie. The stew is especially good with biscuits, cheese and apples. 

The smell of the hearty stew wafts up to Mya’s nose. Her stomach rumbles with hunger. However, Mya continues on her way towards her bedchamber. Her priority is her daughter. She can always eat after she is done nursing Morgana. 

Mya walks into the hall which holds the doors to her and Declan’s bedchambers. The sound of fussing and whimpering is coming from inside the room. Mya immediately opens the door to see the cook’s twelve year old daughter, Ros, humming and rocking a wooden cradle by a hearth. Ros is a pretty girl with long black hair, big brown eyes, light skin and pink lips. The fussing and whimpering is coming from inside the cradle. 

Ros turns to see Mya in the doorway. “Thank the seven you have returned!” Ros says with a slightly exasperated voice as she glances at the cradle. “Morgana is getting hungry.” 

Mya sighs as she approaches the cradle. “Escorting that last group of travelers took a little longer than I expected. Well, what matters is that I am here now.” 

Mya looks into the cradle, which holds a baby girl with wavy coal black hair, bright blue eyes, light skin and tiny red lips. The baby girl immediately stops fussing at the sight of her mother. The baby girl then smiles widely and holds her tiny arms up. “Mama.” The baby girl says. 

Mya immediately picks up her daughter and begins carrying the child to a bed. Mya immediately settles down onto the bed and sets Morgana down on the bed while she takes off her leather coat. Underneath Mya’s leather coat is a pale blue dress top which can be untied to reveal her breasts. Before Morgana was born, Mya could not wear her usual leather attire, and thus had to wear dresses until the child was born, which Mya found very cumbersome as the young woman was used to leather attire. Then, after Morgana was born, Mya found that wearing her usual leather garments underneath her coat wasn’t doable when it came to nursing. So, Mya had to improvise. Mya simply took old servant dresses that had the bottom halves ruined in some way and used a special knife to cut the bottom halves away, leaving the tops that could untie to allow a mother to nurse a babe. Mya hemmed the bottoms and made special blouses to wear underneath her coat. So when it is time to nurse Morgana, all Mya has to do is take off her coat and then untie her blouse. 

Mya smiles as she unties her blouse. Mya then picks Morgana back up and holds the child to her right breast. Morgana smiles and immediately latches on. Mya leans back against the bed frame and relaxes as her daughter nurses at her breast. Even though she has had to adjust many aspects of her life, Mya has found motherhood to be quite fulfilling. 

Mya wouldn’t trade her daughter for anything in the world. 

Morgana simply nurses at Mya’s breast.  _ So good…, _ Morgana thinks to herself. 

Morgana then blinks as she thinks of her past. After her death in Camelot, Morgana came across Morgause’s spirit in the spirit world and saw the darkness surrounding her sister. After Morgana thought more about it, she realized that Morgause’s heart was truly dark. Then, as Morgana continued to wander through the afterlife, she encountered the souls of many of her innocent victims. As Morgana passed each soul, she literally re-lived their deaths. All Morgana could see and hear were their agonized screams and their pleadings for mercy as she killed them or had them put to death. As Morgana re-lived those moments, she realized just how unnecessarily cruel she had been and that her cruelty mirrored what her blood father, Uther Pendragon, had done to so many magical beings. 

In her quest for power, Morgana had literally become the same person that she had come to despise the most. Her blood father. Morgana had literally let her hatred turn her into  _ another _ Uther Pendragon. Of course, this revelation had horrified Morgana to no end.

However, it wasn’t that which had caused Morgana’s soul the most pain. It was when she saw the spirit of Gorlois, the man that she had believed was her father...and the spirit of the mother she never really knew.  _ Vivienne _ . The two revealed a truth to the newly deceased Morgana, which turned everything she had known about her life upside down. 

_...about nine moons ago... _

Morgana walks through the empty field. The newly deceased sorceress has been walking through this field for a while now. It’s like walking through an endless void. Every now and again, another soul will pass Morgana, but not speak to her...or even acknowledge her. 

Just then, Morgana looks to her right to see a meadow with wildflowers and a large water fountain. And...standing by the fountain...is a very familiar figure. The mysterious figure is an older man with short graying dark brown hair, blue-green eyes and a stout body. The figure is also wearing armor and a red Knight of Camelot cloak.

Morgana narrows her eyes as she approaches. Then, it hits her. Morgana gasps and takes a few steps back. It is the man who she believed was her father and who raised her for the first ten years of her life. The figure...is Gorlois. 

Right now, Gorlois is standing by the fountain and looking at the water, as if he is deep in thought. Morgana blinks a few times. The man looks exactly like the last time she saw him many years ago. The day he left to go to battle...and subsequently never came back alive. 

Morgana closes her eyes and manages a small smile. Despite knowing that the man was really only her  _ step-father _ , Morgana will never stop thinking of the man as her father. He had raised her for the first ten years of her life. And besides, her  _ blood father _ was a cruel tyrant who lied and kept secrets from her. That vile man doesn’t deserve to be called  _ father _ by her. 

Morgana opens her eyes. “...Father….” Morgana says with a quiet voice. 

Gorlois turns to face Morgana. His eyes narrow and then widen. “Morgana?” Gorlois says with a questioning voice.

“Yes, it is me.” Morgana says. 

Gorlois just closes his eyes and looks away. “I am surprised that you would call me that since you know the truth.” 

Morgana frowns intently when she thinks of Uther. “Of course I would.” Morgana quickly says. “You raised me until I was ten and you made me the person who I eventually grew up to be. It may be true that Uther Pendragon is my  _ real father _ , but he hasn’t done anything to earn my love! He is a vile man who put so many innocent people to death! Even children!” 

Morgana then growls underneath her breath. “Uther betrayed your friendship by sleeping with your wife, my mother, and then fathering me. Uther also caused your death as he didn’t send the reinforcements that he had promised. You called the King your friend yet he betrayed you  _ twice _ . Uther Pendragon isn’t worthy of being called your friend nor does he deserve the right for me to call him  _ father _ .” 

Just then, a voice catches Morgana’s attention. Both Morgana and Gorlois turn to see a beautiful woman with dark brown wavy hair, gray-greenish eyes, pale skin and perfect red lips. The woman is wearing a light blue dress with a darker blue cloak. The symbol of House Gorlois is sewn into the fabric of the cloak.

Morgana blinks a few times as she takes a few steps towards the woman. The woman looks so much like her. Could it be? “...Mother…?” Morgana says with a questioning tone. 

The woman nods but she doesn’t smile. “Yes Morgana. It is me.” 

Gorlois looks at the woman. “Vivienne.” 

The woman, Vivienne, simply looks at Morgana. “Morgana, I have so much to tell you.” Vivienne then glances towards her husband. “And...I think is time you knew the  _ truth _ regarding mine and Gorlois’s marriage.” 

Morgana blinks a few times. “Wait, the truth? What do you mean?” 

Vivienne closes her eyes. “Morgana, the truth is, Gorlois and I were never really in love. Our marriage was arranged by our families.” 

Morgana just blinks a few times. She is actually very confused by her mother’s words. “But, King Uther told me that you sought his companionship because you were  _ lonely _ due to father being away from home.” 

Vivienne clears her throat. “I must start at the beginning. You see, Gorlois, King Uther, Queen Ygraine and I all grew up together in Camelot when it was under the rule of the king who ruled before Uther. The four of us were very close. However, Uther and Ygraine were especially close and it was obvious that they liked each other a lot. Everyone who knew Uther and Ygraine could envision them marrying one day.” 

Morgana glances back and forth between her mother and step-father. “What about you and father?” 

Vivienne sighs and wrings her hands a little. “Morgana, the truth is, Gorlois and I just enjoyed each other’s  _ company _ . You see, Gorlois and I enjoyed doing the same things. We loved to take long walks around Camelot, which was our favorite pastime. The two of us also enjoyed swimming in the rivers and lakes, watching jousting tournaments, falconry, art and music. However, we were not necessarily attracted to one another like Uther and Ygraine. Gorlois and I were just  _ best friends _ .” 

Gorlois clears his throat. “Morgana, I hope you don’t take what I am to say the wrong way. You see, I did think that your mother was very beautiful. I also admired her for her kind heart, courage and intelligence.” Gorlois then manages a small smile. “Your mother also wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and she was sharp of tongue. Most men would find those qualities annoying, but I admired her for them. However, even though I admired her, I wasn’t  _ sexually aroused _ by her at all. The truth is...I was attracted to women with red hair...or blue eyes.”

Morgana looks at her mother. Her mother has none of those features. 

Vivienne wrings her hands. “I did think that Gorlois was handsome and strong. I also admired him for his courage, bravery, honor and chivalry. And like me, he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and he was also sharp of tongue. However, even though I admired Gorlois for those qualities, I wasn’t sexually attracted to him at all. The truth is...I was attracted to men with black hair...or blue eyes.” 

Morgana then looks at Gorlois. Her step-father doesn’t have any of those features. Neither did king Uther. Well, maybe the king’s eyes were more of a blue-greyish color. 

Morgana blinks a few times as she looks back and forth between her mother and step-father. “Why did your families arrange a marriage for the two of you if you never loved one another?” 

Vivienne closes her eyes. “Morgana, it all started when I fell pregnant with your sister, Morgause.” Vivienne says. She looks down at her feet and it looks as if the woman is about to cry. “One day, while I was out taking a walk alone around Camelot, I ended up coming across an evil sorcerer. The evil sorcerer used his magic to incapacitate me. He then...had his way with me. That...that was how your sister was conceived.” 

Morgana’s eyes widen with horror when she realizes what her mother is trying to say. The evil sorcerer actually  _ raped _ her mother. Morgause...was conceived from rape. Such a terrible revelation indeed.

Vivienne then wrings her hands. “I didn’t want to tell anyone what had happened.” Vivienne says with a tense voice. “Later on though, I discovered that I was carrying a child within me. At that point, I had to tell my parents what had happened to me. However, they told me that even if I had been  _ violated _ , having a child out of wedlock was still a  _ great shame _ .” 

Vivienne closes her eyes. “Alas, my parents told me that they would have to find a husband for me. One who was willing to ‘take me along with my shame’.” Vivienne then opens her eyes and looks at Gorlois. “That is where Gorlois came in. 

Morgana looks towards her step-father. Gorlois turns to look back at the water in the fountain. “It all began when my father fell deathly ill. Vivienne’s father, a sorcerer, used his magic to cure my father of his illness, thus saving his life.” 

Vivienne clears her throat. “You see Morgana, I came from a family of magic users. I was born with magic but it was actually very weak magic, which disappointed my family greatly. That is how the evil sorcerer managed to overpower me. His magic was simply stronger than mine.” 

Morgana simply blinks a few times. So her and Morgause inherited their magic from their mother then?

Gorlois suddenly clears his throat. “You see Morgana, my father was grateful for what Vivienne’s father did for him so he suggested that they unite their families by marriage. Well, Vivienne’s father told my father of how Vivienne had ‘disgraced’ their family by becoming pregnant out of wedlock and that he needed to find her a husband who was willing to take her ‘shame’. Our fathers knew how close Vivienne and I were so they obviously thought that I would be more than willing to marry her despite the great shame she carried within her.” 

Morgana then watches as her step-father wrings his hands. “Of course, I had reservations regarding the whole thing as did your mother. Vivienne knew I wasn’t exactly attracted to her and I knew that she wasn’t attracted to me. However, our families assured us that after Vivienne and I were married for some time, we would eventually fall in love.” 

Vivienne sighs. “Eventually, Gorlois and I agreed to the marriage. A week later, we were wed.” 

Morgana blinks a few times. So...the marriage between her mother and ‘father’ was just a favor then? What a revelation.

Vivienne then clears her throat. “After the wedding, Gorlois and I settled down in his home. We tried to make the best of the situation. In order to adjust to married life, we slept in the same bed, even though Gorlois had decided to hold off on officially making love with me as I was with child. However, there were problems right from the beginning.” 

Vivienne sighs and just wrings her hands. “You see Morgana, after I found out that I was expecting a child, I began to suffer from terrible nightmares. Many of my nightmares involved a young blonde haired sorceress attacking Camelot. That young sorceress...had the  _ eyes _ of the evil sorcerer who had violated me.” 

Morgana’s eyes become wide instantly. “Mother, are you saying that you knew what Morgause would become?” 

Vivienne wrings her hands a little. “Before I became pregnant, I had never suffered from these nightmares. I immediately suspected that these were  _ prophetic _ dreams of my unborn child and that they were an omen of terrible things to come. Of course, I shared these nightmares with my mother and Gorlois. However, despite my mother being a sorceress, she actually didn’t believe in prophecy and just thought I was being  _ silly _ .” 

Morgana just blinks a few times. It never occurred to her that some sorcerers and sorceresses don’t believe in prophecy. 

Vivienne sighs. “Even though my mother didn’t believe in prophecy, she could clearly see that my nightmares were causing me great distress. So in order to give me relief from my nightmares, my mother went to the Isle of the Blessed and had a healing bracelet forged for me to help me sleep.” 

Morgana blinks a few times. “So, the healing bracelet that Morgause gave me to help me with my own nightmares...was given to you by your own mother? All because you couldn’t sleep when you were carrying Morgause inside of you?” 

Vivienne nods. However, she then sighs and holds up her hands. “Unfortunately though, the bracelet did no good. I was still plagued with terrible nightmares. Things got so bad that I eventually moved into a separate bedchamber so that I wouldn’t disturb Gorlois. That bedchamber was where I slept until the birth of Morgause.” 

Morgana just narrows her eyes. “The healing bracelet relieved me of my nightmares. Why didn’t it work for you?” 

Vivienne sighs again. “Healing bracelets cannot prevent ‘prophetic dreams’. The fact that the bracelet did no good for me only solidified my belief that my nightmares were visions of the future.” 

Vivienne then looks down. “Well, when Morgause was finally born, I could sense that there was something wrong with her. Whenever I looked at her, I could sense a dark aura emanating from her.  _ Dark magic _ . It...it scared me. So...I gave Morgause to Gaius and told him to take Morgause to the High Priestesses of the Old Religion. I hoped that if they could train Morgause to use her powers for good instead of evil, my terrible nightmares would not come to pass. And...as I decided that I did not need my healing bracelet anymore, I decided to send it with Morgause. I thought that if she had it, it would remind her to use her magic for good instead of evil.” 

Morgana blinks a few times. “That is why you sent Morgause away then.” Morgana says with realization. “You sensed dark magic within her.” 

Vivienne nods. “Yes.” Vivienne says with a tense voice. “However, my decision to send her away did not do any good. If only I had foreseen what would become of poor Ygraine and how that would darken Uther’s heart. It was because of Uther’s hatred of magic and the great purge that the high priestesses began to train Morgause in the dark arts. They filled her heart and mind with hatred for Uther.” 

Gorlois looks at Vivienne. “Vivienne, what happened with Morgause is  _ not _ your fault. You could not have known what would happen to Ygraine or how Uther’s heart would become dark because of it.” 

Vivienne only blinks a few times. She looks back at her daughter. “After Morgause was sent away, I swore Gaius to secrecy regarding the matter. Gorlois and I made everyone in Camelot believe that Morgause had become ill after birth and subsequently died as a result.” 

Gorlois then clears his throat. “After Morgause’s ‘death’ my family along with your mother’s family began pressuring us to have a child of our own. So, the month after Morgause was sent away, your mother and I officially made love. However, as I told you earlier, the two of us found that we were not sexually aroused by each other. Our first bedding turned out to be a  _ miserable _ experience for both of us. There was just no spark between your mother and I.” 

Morgana just blinks a few times as she tries to imagine this. 

Vivienne sighs as she looks down at her feet. “However, Gorlois and I thought that perhaps having a child together would somehow help us to fall in love. So even though it made both of us absolutely miserable, Gorlois and I bedded each other every single night in hopes that I would conceive a child.” 

A few minutes pass. Vivienne takes a deep breath. “However, many months passed and I still hadn’t conceived. I started to think that Morgause’s birth had somehow  _ cursed _ me and made me barren.” 

Gorlois just sighs. “Our miserable nights together began to affect us both greatly.” Gorlois admits. “We stopped spending time together during the day like we used to. We also began to argue when we were not trying to make love.” 

Morgana blinks a few times. “If the two of you were so miserable, why didn’t the two of you just  _ annul _ your marriage?” 

Gorlois wrings his hands. “Morgana, our families would have considered it very  _ disgraceful _ if your mother and I had annulled our marriage.” Gorlois looks at Vivienne. “And the thing is, your mother and I knew that if we were to annul our marriage, we could never have a close  _ friendship _ again. To be seen together after an annual would have been  _ scandalous _ .” 

Vivienne looks down at her hands. “I had already shamed my family by bearing a child that wasn’t my husband’s. I didn’t want to shame them again by having my marriage to Gorlois  _ annulled _ . I also hated the idea of  _ losing _ my  _ ‘ _ closest friend’.” 

Gorlois looks at the water in the fountain. “Your mother and I agreed that the marriage was a mistake but there was no going back on it. So...in order to at least save our  _ friendship _ , your mother and I agreed to stop making love at night. We were fine sleeping in the same bed together, just not making love like a man and woman do. And we were fine with the idea of never having a child, even though our families pressured us” 

Vivienne sighs. “After Gorlois and I stopped forcing ourselves to make love at night, things improved between us. We stopped fighting and we began to enjoy each other’s company again.” 

Morgana blinks a few times as realization sets in. If her mother and step-father stopped making love, then that must mean her step-father knew she wasn’t his daughter. “Father, does this mean you knew all along that I wasn’t your child?” Morgana asks with a sad voice. 

Gorlois closes his eyes. “I did.” Gorlois then sighs and wrings his hands. “I also have another confession to make. I was constantly bedding women outside mine and your mother’s marriage. I will admit that I am not proud of this. It’s just, I wasn’t getting what I needed from Vivienne.” 

Morgana gasps. So, her ‘father’ wasn’t faithful to her mother just as she wasn’t faithful to him. Morgana looks at her mother. Vivienne simply blinks as she looks at her feet. Morgana raises a brow. “Mother, you don’t seem shocked or upset by this.” 

Vivienne sighs as she looks back up at her daughter. “Morgana, I always knew about Gorlois’s affairs. I didn’t love him so as strange as it might sound, I wasn’t bothered at all by his affairs. I knew Gorlois did not really enjoy having sex with me just as I did not enjoy having sex with him.” 

Morgana just blinks a few times. So her mother knew that Gorlois wasn’t being faithful, yet she didn’t care?

Gorlois looks at the water in the fountain. “Morgana, there is also something else you should know. As it turns out, I was the reason that Vivienne and I couldn’t conceive a child. You see, there were women that I bedded regularly and even though I bedded those women multiple times, none of them ever became pregnant with a child. Well, when some of those women decided to leave me and marry other men, they would immediately become pregnant from their new husbands. Soon, I began to suspect that I was  _ impotent _ , and that was why your mother and I couldn’t conceive a child. I went to see a physician and it was just as I suspected. I was... _ impotent _ .” 

Morgana’s eyes become wide. So her step-father couldn’t have a child at all then? That must be why he decided to accept her despite knowing that she wasn’t his daughter. 

Gorlois simply blinks as he wrings his hands some more. “We will get to the topic of how your mother became pregnant with you later. Right now, there are other things that need to be said. You see, it was nine months after your mother had Morgause sent away when the king of Camelot suddenly died. The king hadn’t named an heir and as you can imagine...this caused chaos as members of the royal family began fighting for kingship over the kingdom.” 

Vivienne sighs. “Eventually, the members of the royal family destroyed each other. This left the throne open to anyone who was willing to fight for it. Uther was from a very high ranking noble family within the kingdom so he jumped at his chance to become king.” 

“My family and I supported his campaign against the other noble families who were eyeing the throne.” Gorlois says. “As Vivienne’s family was now allied with mine due to our marriage, they also supported Uther. Uther’s good friend, Lord Godwyn of Gawant, along with many other kingdoms and noble families also supported Uther. With this combined might and with a little help from magic, courtesy of Vivienne’s family of course, Uther defeated all of the rival nobles and their armies, along with any kingdom that tried to take over Camelot. Uther was then crowned king of Camelot.” 

Morgana’s eyes widen quite considerably at what her step-father has just revealed to her. Uther, the tyrannical king who hated all magical beings, had help from sorcerers when he took the throne of Camelot for himself. Then, he repaid them by executing them and banning all magic from Camelot. That is so hypocritical. Morgana feels like gritting her teeth. This new information has just solidified Morgana’s hatred of her tyrannical blood father. 

Gorlois then sighs. “It was six months after Uther became king when I was sent to the Northern Plains to fight. That was when your mother and King Uther had their affair.” 

Morgana then looks at her mother. Vivienne wrings her hands. “As I said earlier, I missed my ‘friend’. You see Morgana, I actually never intended to have sex with the king. All I wanted was companionship while Gorlois was away, not sex. I also knew that Ygraine was in love with Uther and I knew that if she ever found out that I had had sex with Uther, she would be terribly hurt. One night however, Uther and I were together in his bedchamber. We were drinking some wine and I suppose you could say that we had a little  _ too much _ . One thing led to another, and the King and I were in bed together. That was the night you were conceived.” 

Morgana narrows her eyes. So that’s what happened then? She was conceived because her mother and that vile king had  _ too much _ wine to drink?

Morgana then watches as her mother looks down at her feet. “I immediately felt guilty about it.” Vivienne admits. “Even though Uther and Ygraine were not married at the time, I still felt that I had betrayed Ygraine’s friendship. After that, I immediately broke off the affair. The king didn’t grieve though as he proposed marriage to Ygraine, several days afterwards. Of course, Ygraine gladly accepted, and the kingdom and the high council began preparing for the wedding celebration. That day also happened to be the day Gorlois returned home from the Northern Plains.” 

Vivienne then looks at her hands. “During the traditional jousting tournament that was held to celebrate King Uther’s marriage to Ygraine, I could barely look at the two of them because I felt so  _ guilty _ .” 

Vivienne then closes her eyes. “I never thought that I would become pregnant by the king. I had convinced myself that the birth of Morgause had made me barren. However, a few months after my affair with Uther, I went to see Gaius as I felt unwell. To my shock, Gaius told me that I was in fact expecting a child. As Gorlois and I hadn’t bedded one another for many months, I knew he would figure out that he wasn’t the father. I wanted to hide it from Gorlois, but I knew that with my figure, I wouldn’t be able to. So I decided to just tell him what Gaius had told me. However, Gorlois ended up shocking me as he revealed that even if we had bedded one another recently, he would have already known that he wasn’t the father because a physician told him that he was impotent. He also revealed his own adultery, which confirmed what I had already suspected.” 

Morgana looks at her step-father. Gorlois sighs. “I wanted to be angry about it. However, I knew that she was just as miserable as I was when it came to bedding one another. I guess I wasn’t surprised that she had sought comfort from someone else. And...I hadn’t been the most faithful husband to her so I knew that to call her out on her own adultery would be hypocritical.” 

Gorlois then wrings his hands. “I also knew that if I publicly revealed her adultery and the reason that I knew the child wasn’t mine, I would become the biggest laughing stock in Camelot. So...I told Vivienne that I wouldn’t reveal the truth, just as long as she told me who the father was.” 

Vivienne looks down. “I had to tell Gorlois what king Uther and I had done.” 

Morgana looks over to Gorlois. Gorlois sighs. “To say I was shocked and angry that my close friend had betrayed me in such a way is an understatement. Even if I didn’t truly love Vivienne, the knowledge that the man I called my ‘best friend’ had the audacity to betray me and sleep with my wife shook me to the core.” 

Morgana hisses. “That vile king didn’t deserve your friendship!” Morgana says. “He betrayed you!” 

Gorlois then looks at his feet. “That he did. I will admit that when I found out about his betrayal, I was very tempted to reveal the truth. However, I knew that if I revealed what the king had done, I would cause a terrible scandal that would ultimately shame me, Vivienne and our families.” 

Morgana then watches as her step-father looks up at the sky. “And...Queen Ygraine…,” Gorlois says with a quiet voice. “I just knew she would be heartbroken over such a revelation. Like your mother, I didn’t want to spoil the queen’s happiness. So...I kept my mouth shut on the matter.” 

Morgana blinks a few times. Hmm, both her mother and step-father must have cared deeply for the Queen if they were willing to keep such a terrible secret from the woman in order to preserve her happiness. 

Gorlois closes his eyes. “Nobody in our families was none the wiser. They all believed that I was the father. However, it was obvious that King Uther knew the truth. Whenever your mother and I, along with the other nobles were summoned to the royal court, the king would always spare a glance at your mother’s growing belly.” 

Vivienne then manages a small smile. “Then you were born. Unlike with Morgause, I didn’t sense any kind of dark magic emanating from you. To say that I was happy and relieved was an understatement.” 

Gorlois blinks a few times. “At first, I didn’t know if I could bring myself to love you.” Gorlois admits. “However, you did manage to win me over.” 

Vivienne smiles brightly. “People often say that babes can sense who their real parents are. Well, if you had somehow sensed that Gorlois wasn’t your real father, you obviously didn’t care. The truth is, you  _ adored _ Gorlois.” 

Morgana’s eyes widen. “I did?” 

Vivienne nods. “Oh yes. You loved to hear him speak. In fact, you couldn’t get enough of his voice. And whenever he held you, you just couldn’t stop laughing or smiling. Then, when you learned to crawl and walk, you were always trying to find Gorlois within our house.” 

Vivienne then smiles even more brightly. She walks up and puts a hand on Morgana’s shoulder. “And when you learned to talk, your first word wasn’t mama. It was  _ papa _ .” 

Morgana gasps. “Truly?” 

Vivienne smiles and nods. “Yes.” Vivienne then turns to Gorlois. 

Morgana turns to her step-father. Gorlois...actually manages to smile a little. “Aye, you pretty much won me over after that.” Gorlois admits. 

Then, Gorlois suddenly frowns as he looks back at the fountain. “However, when it came to your ‘real’ father, King Uther, you didn’t like him at all. In fact, whenever your mother and I were summoned to the royal court, the King would ask to hold you. However, the moment you touched his arms...you would start crying.” 

Morgana’s eyes widen even more. “Really?” 

Gorlois nods. “Aye. Even though the king never showed it, I could tell that he was frustrated with your apparent dislike of him.” 

Morgana huffs. “I probably sensed that he was a vile man.” 

Vivienne and Gorlois just share a look. Gorlois sighs. “Morgana, you must understand something. King Uther didn't always  _ hate _ magic. In fact, during the first year or so of his reign, he was tolerant of magic users.” 

Vivienne sighs. “Uther wasn’t always a cruel king either. When he was young, he was a lot like Arthur, your half-brother. Alas, Uther was once a very just and fair king, and despite having a bad temper at times, he was very kind hearted and honorable.” 

Morgana frowns as she tries to imagine her blood father once being an honorable, just and fair king. 

Gorlois sighs. “However, things changed after the death of Queen Ygraine. The day that Queen Ygraine died, a part of King Uther died as well.” 

Vivienne sighs. “It was about a year and three months after your birth when King Uther and Ygraine’s son, Arthur, your  _ half-brother _ , was born. As you know, King Uther asked the sorceress, Nimueh, to use her magic in order to help the barren Ygraine to conceive a child...and Queen Ygraine died as a result. This caused Uther to hate all magical beings. He banished Nimueh and thus began the Great Purge.” 

Gorlois sighs. “It was a terrible time indeed. There was so much death and persecution. You were too young to remember that time, but it did take a toll on our family.” 

Morgana looks at her mother. Her mother said that she had come from a magical family. “Mother, you said that many of your family members possessed magic. What happened to them?” 

Vivienne sighs. It looks as if she is about to cry. “King Uther had them on his ‘death list’. However, Gaius informed Gorlois of it and Gorlois then proceeded to warn my family. Alas, thanks to Gorlois,  _ most _ of my family managed to escape Camelot. However, some of my family, including my favorite uncle and his family...were captured. They were immediately put to death.” 

Morgana gasps. The king bedded her mother yet he put her family members to death. Morgana clenches her fists. This new piece of information has just increased her hatred of her blood father. 

Gorlois grimaces as he looks at the water in the fountain. “Morgana, I really tried to save your mother’s family members. I reminded Uther of my ties to them but the king just wasn’t having it. He put them to death, despite my protests. This just deepened the rift that was growing between the king and I.” 

Morgana snarls as she thinks of Uther. “King Uther was nothing but a cruel tyrant!” Morgana says. “He wasn’t deserving of the throne.” 

Gorlois closes his eyes. “Morgana, King Uther changed after the death of Ygraine. It was like some evil spirit had possessed him. Both your mother and I barely recognized the person that we had grown up with and treated as a dear friend. Ygraine’s death changed Uther for the worse.” 

Vivienne then clears her throat. “Morgana, I must tell you of why I left. You see, my family was so embarrassed by my weak magic, they never told anyone outside of our family. No one except Gorlois and my family knew of my magic. King Uther didn’t even know, which is why I wasn’t targeted for persecution. However, it was three months after the great purge began when my magic suddenly started becoming stronger. I realized it wouldn’t be long before King Uther found out. Given how Uther had become, there was no doubt in my mind that he would have me executed, despite the fact that we had bedded one another and that I had given him a daughter. So...I said goodbye to you and Gorlois...and then fled Camelot.” 

Morgana just blinks a few times. So that is why she has no memories of her mother. Her mother fled Camelot to escape death for something that she couldn’t control. Morgana clenches her fists. She positively hates her blood father now. 

Vivienne looks down. “You were too young to remember that day. On that day, I held you for a long time...all the while I cried my heart out.” 

Morgana looks at her mother with sad eyes. “I don’t have any memories of you at all.” Morgana admits with a sad voice. “I just wish that I did.” 

Vivienne wrings her hands. “I wanted to take you with me, but I had no idea where I was going.” Vivienne then looks at Gorlois. “I knew that even if Gorlois wasn’t your real father, he would take care of you. And, I also knew that unlike me, King Uther wouldn’t dare kill you if you ended up inheriting my magic. So...I left you with Gorlois.” 

Morgana looks to her step-father, wondering what he has to say about all of this. Gorlois sighs. “It was a very hard time for me. Even if I hadn’t truly loved your mother, I was devastated as I had lost my  _ friend and companion _ ...and I was left with a now practically  _ motherless _ child that wasn’t even mine by blood.” 

Morgana just blinks a few times as she looks at Gorlois. “Did the King ever ask why my mother  _ disappeared _ ?” 

Gorlois closes his eyes and tightens his grip on the edge of the fountain. “Yes, he did. I did not want to reveal your mother’s magic to the king as he could have always sent someone to capture her. So, I decided to tell him what you could call a  _ half-truth _ . I told him that Vivienne had decided to leave Camelot as she could not forgive him for what he did to her family.” 

Morgana looks at her mother. Vivienne looks down. “I had come to despise the King for what he did to my family, so what Gorlois told him was _partly_ true.” 

Gorlois takes a deep breath. “When I told the king that, I did see a little bit of  _ remorse _ in his eyes. However, if the king truly was remorseful for making Vivienne leave, it didn’t stop his persecution of magic.” 

Morgana huffs a little.  _ That vile king probably wouldn’t have had any remorse if he had known the true reason my mother left. _ Morgana thinks grimly to herself. 

Gorlois then looks back at the fountain. “As you can imagine, the friendship between the king and I was severely strained after your mother’s departure. First, he had betrayed me by sleeping with my wife and fathering a child with her. Then, he turned into a tyrant and started putting innocent people to death. And it was his cruel ways that had  _ robbed _ you of your mother. Truthfully, I was starting to lose faith in the King.” 

Gorlois then looks at his hands. “However, at the same time, another part of me had hoped that one day he would see the error of his cruel ways. And as you know, I was a knight of Camelot. I had a duty to the kingdom as a whole, not just king Uther. So...I remained on the high council...as an advisor to king Uther. Even though I was starting to lose faith in the king, I was still loyal to the  _ people _ of Camelot.” 

Morgana grits her teeth a little. “Obviously that vile king didn’t appreciate your loyalty to the kingdom. When you went to the Vale of Danaria to battle Mercia’s forces, he allowed you and the soldiers under your command to die!” 

Gorlois and Vivienne share a look with one another. Vivienne sighs. “Morgana, I think that it is time you knew how Gorlois and I died. You see, when I left Camelot, I went looking for the members of my family who had managed to escape the great purge.” Vivienne then grits her teeth. “I never did find my family, but  _ someone _ did find me. That person...was Morgause’s father.” 

Morgana’s eyes widen. Vivienne takes a deep breath as she continues on. “Of course, Morgause’s father was all too happy to see me again. When he saw me again, he seemed to develop an infatuation with me. Alas, he tried to violate me  _ again _ . However, as my magic had grown stronger, I managed to escape his clutches. However, as I ran away from him, he promised that he would find me again.” 

Vivienne sighs. “That horrible man pursued me for eight years and I always managed to outwit him. Then, after running for him for nearly eight years, he suddenly stopped. I was relieved. However, what I didn’t know was that he had decided to join forces with Mercia to  _ attack _ Camelot.” 

Morgana’s eyes become wide again. Morgause’s father joined forces with Mercia?!

Vivienne sighs. “It was about nine years after I had left you and Gorlois when I happened to be walking around the Vale of Danaria, when I saw a great battle unfold. For some reason, I was drawn to the battle. Well, when I finally arrived, I was absolutely shocked by what I saw. Almost all of the soldiers and knights were dead, all except two.” 

Morgana’s eyes become even more wide. The Vale of Danaria?! Almost nine years after her mother had left?

Morgana then looks at her step-father. Gorlois motions to the fountain. “You see this fountain Morgana? It is called the  _ fountain of the past and memories _ . By touching the water, a soul can relive any memory or a past event associated with a particular memory. Come child, it is time you saw what truly happened the day I died.” 

Morgana blinks as she approaches the fountain to stand by Gorlois. Vivienne approaches the fountain as well. “Put your hand into the water.” Gorlois says as he puts his own hand into the water. 

Morgana obeys and puts her right hand into the water. Vivienne also puts her right hand into the water. Gorlois nods. “Now, close your eyes.” 

Morgana closes her eyes. At first, there is only darkness. Then, an image suddenly enters Morgana’s mind.

_ Morgana is in a field. She looks around. There are dead bodies everywhere. All of the bodies bear either Camelot armor or Mercian armor. In the middle of the field are two men and one of them is wounded and on his knees. Morgana’s eyes become wide. The man who is wounded and on his knees...is none other than Gorlois. Morgana then looks closer at the man who is standing over her wounded step-father. Morgana’s eyes become even wider as she immediately recognizes the man. The man is one of the many sorcerers that king Uther put to death during his reign. That happened about a year after Gorlois’s death.  _

_ Then, Morgana realizes that her mother is standing next to her along with a non wounded Gorlois. Vivienne nods as she looks at her daughter. “This is a vision of the past Morgana. Let’s just say that the people in this vision cannot hear or see us.”  _

_ Morgana cocks her head a little. “Mother, who is that man standing over father?”  _

_ Vivienne sighs. “That man standing over Gorlois...is Morgause’s father.”  _

_ Morgana just looks at the mysterious man. She now remembers his name from when King Uther put him to death. The man’s name is Alaric. Morgana blinks as she looks at Arlic. She can’t believe that this man is Morgause’s father, but it does make sense. Alaric has the same blond hair and brown eyes as Morgause.  _

_ Morgana then watches as Alaric laughs diabolically at the sight of the wounded Gorlois. “Ha-ha, you are all alone now.” Alaric says with a taunting voice as he looks down at Gorlois, who simply looks up at Alaric with a defying look. Alaric then looks around at the dead Camelot knights and soldiers. “All of these men died fighting for you even though you led them to absolute slaughter. How touching? Don’t worry though, you shall be reunited with them very soon.”  _

_ Alaric then raises his sword and prepares to deliver the killing blow. However, it never comes. A tremendous gust of wind hits Alaric, sending him flying away from Gorlois. Then, a figure runs up to the wounded Gorlois. Morgana’s eyes widen. It is her mother, Vivienne. Of course, this Vivienne is just an illusion.  _

_ Morgana turns to the real Vivienne, who is standing next to her. “Mother, you saved father!”  _

_ “Of course I did. I may not have loved him sexually, but he was my best friend.” Vivienne says.  _

_ The wounded Gorlois looks up at Vivienne with eyes full of surprise and shock. “Vivienne, is it really you?” The wounded Gorlois asks.  _

_ Vivienne nods and smiles. “Yes, it is me Gorlois.” Vivienne says.  _

_ Then, Morgana notices that Alaric is getting back to his feet. The wounded Gorlois looks to see Alaric getting back to his feet. Gorlois grunts as he tries to get back to his feet. _

_ Vivienne also notices Alaric getting to his feet. Vivienne growls as she looks at Alaric. “You are one evil man!” Vivienne says with a hiss.  _

_ Alaric just smirks as he looks at Vivienne. “It has been many months and you are still as feisty as ever.” Alaric says. “Well, all I can say is that you have evaded me for the last time. I promise, you shall be mine!”  _

_ The wounded Gorlois finally manages to get back to his feet. He looks back and forth between Vivienne and Alaric. “Vivienne, do you know this sorcerer?”  _

_ Vivienne hisses. “Yes, I do.” Vivienne says with a tense voice. “Gorlois, this man...is Morgause’s father. He is the one who violated me. I ran into him sometime after I left. He has been pursuing me ever since.”  _

_ The wounded Gorlois’s eyes widen immediately. Then, his eyes light up with rage as he looks at the smirking Alaric. “It was you?!” Gorlois bellows. “You were the one who raped Vivienne?!”  _

_ Alaric then notices the cloak that Vivienne is wearing and the crest that is sewn into it. Alaric then narrows his eyes as he notices that the same crest is on the wounded Gorlois’s armor. Then, once Alaric sees the rings that Vivienne and Gorlois are wearing, the evil sorcerer finally puts it all together. Alaric gasps and his eyes become wide.  _

_ However, after a few moments, Alaric just bursts out laughing. “Really?!” Alaric asks incredulously as he looks straight at Vivienne. “You are married to this pathetic knight?!”  _

_ Vivienne growls as the evil sorcerer's words. “Don’t you dare refer to Gorlois as such!” Vivienne says as she looks at Alaric. “Gorlois is the bravest and most honorable man that I have ever known!”  _

_ Alaric just continues to laugh. “Hmm, is that so? Well then, I suppose that since you shall be grieving from his death very soon, I will have to wait to bed you.”  _

_ Vivienne’s eyes light up with rage. “I would never willingly bed you! I would rather die!”  _

_ Alaric just frowns at Vivienne’s words. The man then mutters a spell and a beam of light suddenly forms in front of the evil sorcerer. The beam starts moving towards Vivienne and the wounded Gorlois. _

_ “Gorlois, get out of the way! I can handle this.” Vivienne says as she starts to mutter her own spell.  _

_ The wounded Gorlois hesitates for a moment, but ultimately does as his wife says. Then, Vivienne holds up her hands and energy forms around them. The beam of heated light that is coming towards Vivienne suddenly stops and turns around. The beam of light then starts heading back in Alaric’s direction. However, Alaric manages to dodge just in the nick of time. The beam of light soon dissipates into the air.  _

_ Alaric just smirks. “Your magic has gotten stronger.” Alaric says to Vivienne. However, Alaric then mutters another spell. “However, it still won’t be enough to stop me.”  _

_ A whooshing sound comes from behind Vivienne. Vivienne turns to see a massive gust of air and wind barreling towards her. Her eyes widen and she tries to dodge it, but it is too late. The wind lifts Vivienne up off her feet and carries her many feet away. Vivienne almost falls off a nearby cliff, but she manages to grab onto the ledge.  _

_ “Vivienne!” The wounded Gorlois yells out.  _

_ Morgana gasps at the sight of her mother struggling to hold onto the edge of the cliff. Morgana then turns and sees that the wounded Gorlois attempting to run towards Alaric with his sword drawn. However, Alaric chants another spell and manages to incapacitate the wounded knight.  _

_ Morgana gasps as she watches Alaric walk casually up to her wounded and now stunned step-father. Morgana then sees her mother muttering another spell, which in turn stuns Alaric. However, Alaric simply shakes off the spell and keeps moving towards the wounded Gorlois, who is having a harder time shaking off the stunning spell that Alaric cast upon him.  _

_ Vivienne chants another spell. The cloak that Alaric is wearing suddenly catches fire. However, before the fire can burn Alaric, the evil sorcerer manages to throw the burning cloak off of him.  _

_ Vivienne just gasps again as she watches Alaric move ever closer to Gorlois. “Gorlois!” Vivienne yells out.  _

_ Alaric simply keeps on walking until he is standing directly above the wounded Gorlois, who is trying to get to his feet. Vivienne tries to chant another spell, but her hands narrowly slip off of the ledge, nearly causing her to fall to her death. _

_ Alaric smirks as he stands above the wounded Gorlois. Gorlois looks up at the evil sorcerer with defiant eyes. Alaric just smirks even more as he raises his sword. “Say goodbye.” Alaric says with a taunting voice.  _

_ Morgana watches with horror as Alaric stabs her step-father in the heart with his sword. Gorlois slumps over onto the ground, dead.  _

_ On the cliff ledge, Vivienne gasps with horror. “NO!” Vivienne cries out.  _

_ Alaric just smirks as he turns away from Gorlois’s body. The evil sorcerer simply walks over to the cliff ledge. The evil man is now standing above Vivienne. Vivienne looks up at Alaric with a look of absolute hatred.  _

_ “You...you killed Gorlois.” Vivienne says with a hiss.  _

_ Alaric just smirks. “Yes, I did. He is gone. Now, you are finally mine.”  _

_ Vivienne growls. “Go to hell! I would rather die than bed you!”  _

_ Alaric frowns as he looks down at the struggling Vivienne. “Hmm, I guess if you would rather die and join your pathetic husband in the spirit world...then so be it.”  _

_ Morgana’s eyes widen with absolute horror as she watches Alaric take a few steps back from the ledge. Alaric then chants an earth spell. The ledge that Vivienne is holding onto, gives way. Vivienne screams as she falls to her death.  _

_ Morgana can’t take it anymore. She screams. _

Morgana is brought out of the vision by a hand shaking her. Morgana opens her eyes and looks to see Gorlois and Vivienne standing above her. 

Vivienne looks down at her daughter with sad eyes. “Do you understand now? Morgause’s father...killed Gorlois and I that day.” 

Morgana grits her teeth as she slowly gets back to her feet. If she could cry, she would be crying rivers of tears. Morgause’s father raped their mother, resulting in Morgause’s birth. Then, the man returned...and killed their mother and step-father. 

Morgana closes her eyes and grits her teeth even more. Morgause’s father...is the one who  _ ruined _ her life. “To think that I felt  _ sorry _ for that man when king Uther put him to death.” Morgana says. “If I had known the truth, I would have  _ celebrated _ his death.” 

After a few tense moments, Vivienne sighs. “Morgana, I am sorry that I have to tell you this, but...Morgause was manipulating you right from the beginning. You must listen closely to what I have to say.” 

Vivienne then sighs. “Morgana, your sister actually tricked your half-brother with a vision of his mother. Morgause had the illusion of Ygraine tell Arthur that he was conceived with magic, which is true. However, Morgause then had the illusion of Ygraine  _ lie _ to Arthur. The illusion of Ygraine and told Arthur that Uther had known that the birth of his son would kill Ygraine...and that he had knowingly sacrificed Ygraine’s life to obtain an heir, which isn’t true at all. Morgana, your half-brother of course believed the illusion and ended up turning on your father. In fact, Arthur would have  _ killed _ the king if Merlin hadn’t convinced him that what Morgause had shown him was a lie.” 

Morgana’s eyes become wide instantly. Morgause...tricked Arthur into nearly killing his own father? Of course Morgana hates the king but the revelation that Arthur nearly  _ killed _ the man, their father, is quite shocking. 

Vivienne then sighs again. “Morgana, Morgause also lied about your right to the throne. Morgana, since you were of  _ illegitimate _ birth, you actually had no right to inherit the throne from king Uther. Morgause put that idea into your head to turn you against Arthur.” 

Morgana’s eyes widen. She actually had no right to rule Camelot at all? Morgana immediately puts her head into her hands. She only turned against Arthur because Morgause told her that he was ‘all that stood between her and the throne’. She turned against Arthur to obtain a throne that wasn’t actually her right. In doing so, she betrayed  _ everyone _ who cared about her. 

Morgana feels so stupid for believing and trusting her half-sister. 

Morgana then closes her eyes as she remembers all of her terrible deeds. When she took control of Camelot, she put so many innocent people to death. She also tried to kill Arthur, Merlin and Gwen so many times. They cared about her and they loved her yet she repaid their love and friendship with hatred. 

Morgana blinks a few times as she thinks of Arthur. Even before they found that they were half-siblings, the two of them were extremely close. They were  _ almost _ like brother and sister. Arthur had cared for Morgana dearly and she had cared about him. However, she repaid him by stealing the throne from their father and then later him. Morgana also tried to kill Arthur more times than she can count. She was also responsible for the death of  _ their _ father as it was her enchantment that prevented King Uther from being healed. 

Morgana then looks down at her hands as she thinks of Gwen. Before Morgana turned against Camelot, Gwen had been her loyal maidservant. Gwen helped her dress in the mornings, prepared bathwater for her, brought her meals, cleaned her bedchamber and was one of her closest friends. Then, after Morgana had that vision of Gwen becoming queen of Camelot, she betrayed Gwen’s love and friendship by trying to kill her. Morgana even captured Gwen and held her prisoner and had an enchanted sword guard her. And...it was that sword which killed Gwen’s beloved brother, Elyan. 

Morgana then thinks of Merlin/Emrys. Back before she turned on Camelot, Morgana thought of the young warlock as a dear friend as he hid her magic after she confided in him. Then, after turning against Camelot, Morgana tried to kill him more times than she can count. All because he kept standing in the way of her killing Arthur. In the end, Merlin/Emrys killed her. 

Morgana then thinks of Mordred. Back when she helped Merlin to save the young druid from King Uther’s soldiers, Morgana felt a special connection to the young boy. Then, Morgana turned evil and subsequently turned against Camelot. This in turn caused Mordred to turn against her and choose Arthur’s side, which caused Morgana great distress. However, now that Morgana looks back at the whole thing, she can finally understand why Mordred was initially against her. Morgana was truly a shadow of her former self, the one that Mordred had come to love. Morgana then closes her eyes as she remembers Mordred’s words the day she ambushed him, Arthur and Merlin while they were taking Gwen to the Cauldron of Arianrhod. 

_...I hope that one day you will find the love and compassion that used to fill your heart. _

Morgana blinks a few times. She let her hatred of Uther consume her heart. And when she allowed that hatred to take over, she truly did lose her love and compassion, which is what Mordred had loved about her. Morgana then clenches her fists. Then, after Arthur killed Kara, Mordred’s lover, the druid turned against Arthur and Camelot, and subsequently joined her side. After that...Mordred was utterly loyal to her. He aided her army in attacking Camelot so that she could take her place as Queen because he believed in her. Mordred had literally died so that she could become queen. However, as it turns out, ruling Camelot was never Morgana’s right anyway. In the end, Mordred brought about Arthur’s demise. However, at the same time, Arthur ended up killing Mordred, the knight that was once loyal to him. Morgana then looks at her hands. And...in the end...Merlin/Emrys killed her, which means that she never got to become the true queen of Camelot, even though as it turns out, it wasn’t her right anyway. And, Mordred also never got to see the love and compassion that he had initially loved her for, return to her heart either. Morgana feels like crying. Her young friend’s death...was truly meaningless.  _ Mordred, I am sorry. _ Morgana thinks as she opens her eyes.  _ You truly died for nothing. _

After a few moments, Morgana looks up at her mother and step-father. “Oh mother, oh father…,” Morgana chokes out. “I can just imagine how disappointed the two of you are in me. I truly messed up my life. I used my magic for so much evil. I killed so many innocent people and I betrayed the people who loved and cared for me. And...Mordred, he was one of my closest friends. He died so that I could become queen when it wasn’t truly my right. And...even though he killed Arthur, he never got to see me become queen of Camelot and he also never got to see my loving and compassionate side again. Mordred, he died for nothing.” 

Morgana shakes her head. “If I could take everything back...I would.” Morgana chokes out. 

Just then, Vivienne puts a hand on Morgana’s shoulder as does Gorlois. “We can sense how regretful you are over your actions. This is good. It means that your heart is not completely consumed by evil.” Vivienne says. 

“However, not even souls can go back in time to change their actions.” Gorlois says with a sigh. “However, there is one way a regretful soul can achieve redemption. Morgana, have you ever heard of  _ rebirth _ ?” 

Morgana just blinks as she looks up at her step-father. “Yes, I have. It’s when souls choose to be born again into different bodies, am I right?” 

Gorlois nods. “Yes. You see, by choosing to live another life, regretful souls can achieve things that they never did in their first life...and they can ensure that they don’t repeat past mistakes or misdeeds.” 

Vivienne then points to a stone path that leads to a faraway meadow with a small pond. “Morgana, do you see that meadow over there? That is the  _ meadow of rebirth _ . That is where souls go if they wish to be reborn.” 

Morgana glances towards the meadow. After a moment, she turns back to her mother and step-father. “Is that what I must do to redeem myself then? Be reborn into another body?” 

Vivienne and Gorlois both nod. “What you have to do is go into the meadow and sit in front of that pond.” Vivienne says. “The gods can hear the thoughts of whoever looks directly at the water. When you look into the water, think about your past, your misdeeds and why you wish to be reborn. The gods will then decide whether you are truly remorseful and whether you truly deserve a second chance.” 

“If the gods find you worthy of being reborn, a door shall open up in the meadow.” Gorlois says. “In order to be reborn, you must go through that door.” 

Morgana blinks a few times. The regretful sorceress knows that in order to be reborn, she must leave the spirit world...along with her mother and step-father. A part of Morgana would love to spend eternity with her mother and step-father. However, Morgana also knows that she will never be able to rest in peace if she doesn’t at the very least try to redeem herself. 

Morgana knows what she has to do. 

After a moment, Morgana quickly hugs both Vivienne and Gorlois. “Goodbye.” Morgana says. “Even if I am reborn into another body, I will never forget either of you.” Morgana then looks at Gorlois. “It is true that you are not my blood father, but no matter what...I will always consider you my father.” 

Morgana then turns to look at the meadow. She then begins making her way down the path, unsure of what her future will hold.

Morgana arrives at the meadow. She immediately sits down in front of the pond and looks into the water. She takes a deep breath and begins thinking of her past. She thinks of all her loved ones, how she betrayed them and how much she regrets her actions. 

Then, after a few minutes, Morgana hears a noise to her right. She turns to see a glowing ball of energy to her right. The ball of energy then morphs into a door. Morgana gasps. It worked. 

Morgana immediately gets to her feet and walks over to the door. She takes a deep breath and grabs the handle.  _ Here goes nothing…, _ Morgana thinks to herself. 

Morgana opens the door, to find a long hallway made of stone. Torches light the way down the hallway. The hallway ends at an opening which glows with a bright light. Then, Morgana cocks her head as she hears a faint voice in the back of her head. 

_ Follow the light Morgana,  _ The faint voice says.  _ Follow the light _ .

Morgana doesn’t hesitate. She walks down the hallway towards the light. The sorceress has to shield her eyes as she approaches the light. The light is almost blinding, but Morgana doesn’t care. If this is her path to redemption, then she is going to take it. 

Morgana then takes a deep breath and steps into the light. She takes a few steps forward until she sees a black hole open up in front of her. Morgana then realizes that she is literally floating towards the black hole. Within moments, Morgana is engulfed by darkness. 

_...Present day… _

Morgana opens her eyes. Her mouth is around her ‘new’ mother’s breast. She fell asleep while nursing again. Morgana takes her mouth off of Mya’s breast and then starts playing with Mya’s blouse. 

Mya looks down at her daughter. Declan walks over. Just a few minutes ago, Declan got done with his task in the stables so he came to spend some time with his lover and daughter. “Hmm, she’s finally awake.” Declan says with some amusement as he looks down at baby Morgana. 

Morgana then looks up at her ‘new’ father. Declan smiles and covers his eyes. “Where is papa?” 

Morgana blinks a few times and coos. Declan then uncovers his eyes. “Here I am!” 

Morgana smiles brightly. Her papa always does this and it never gets old. “Papa!” Morgana says with her tiny voice as she reaches up for the young man. 

Declan smiles as he plays with his daughter. Like Mya, Declan also wouldn’t trade his daughter for anything in the world. Even though most men would question the parentage of a child born outside a legitimate marriage, Declan knows that there is no doubt Morgana is his child. Even though Morgana’s tiny cheeks are plump like a babe’s should be, it is fairly obvious that when she gets older, she shall have high cheekbones just like him. Morgana’s eyes are deep set and roundish almond shaped just like his. And, Morgana also has thick lashes and perfectly red lips like most Royce women do. 

There is no doubt that Morgana is of Royce blood, and Declan just couldn’t ask for a more beautiful daughter. 

Declan and Mya then share a smile. Aside from Morgana being very beautiful and healthy, Declan and Mya have noticed something amazing as have others in the castle. Morgana...is a very advanced babe. 

When Morgana was just three moons old, she rolled over from her stomach to her back and then from her stomach to her back, which is  _ unheard _ of for a babe of only three moons. Then, when Morgana was just five and a half moons old, she learned to crawl, which again, is unheard of for a babe of that age. Then, when Morgana was six moons old, she learned to sit up on her own. Morgana then learned to stand up on her own at only eight and a half moons old. Morgana then learned to walk  _ and _ speak at only nine moons old. 

To say that Declan and Mya are proud of their baby is an understatement. Not only is their baby girl beautiful and healthy, she is advanced and super intelligent. Declan and Mya truly feel blessed to have been given such a special gift from above.

Morgana simply blinks up at her happy parents. After Morgana floated into the black hole, she was in darkness for a while. While in the darkness she felt warm, safe and secure. It felt like she was wrapped in a cocoon and there were muffled voices all around her. Then, the next thing Morgana knew, she was cold and in someone’s hands. 

That was the day she was reborn...and ultimately given a chance to live a new life. 

Morgana blinks up at her parents. The moment Morgana entered this world, she felt nothing but love and warmth. Her new parents, Mya and Declan, have been nothing but loving and attentive since her birth around nine months ago. There is no doubt in Morgana’s mind that her parents love one another very deeply and that they love her as well. Even though Morgana will never forget her step-father Gorlois or her mother Vivienne, Morgana is content with her new life. She has two loving parents and she can now make sure that she leads a better life, free of her past mistakes. 

Morgana has also learned from her time living her new life, that she was reborn into a different world. The high priestesses all talked about how there are many different worlds that exist parallel to one another, and the ability to see into these other worlds is extremely powerful magic that very few can achieve. From her time in being alive in this new world, Morgana has learned that her birth land is called Westeros, which is made up of nine constituent regions, which are ruled by a high king. Within each region are many noble houses, which are ruled by noble lords and ladies. However, within each region is a single powerful noble house called a ‘Great House’, which actually rules all of the other noble houses within that region. However, even though they rule over their own lands, the Great Houses all have to answer to the king. Morgana has also learned that illegitimate children of nobles are called ‘bastards’ and they are given special surnames dependent on the regions in which they are born or raised in. Morgana’s parents are of illegitimate birth with both their fathers being of noble birth. Both Mya and Declan’s surnames are Stone, as they were born and raised in a region of Westeros called the  _ Vale _ . Mya and Declan are currently serving a cadet branch of a noble house called House Royce of Runestone. The branch that Mya and Declan are serving is in charge of a castle called the Gates of the Moon, which is where Morgana was born. The Gates of the Moon helps to guard a castle called the Eyrie, which is the seat of House Arryn, the Great House which rules the Vale. 

Morgana just blinks a few times as she coos up at her parents. Both her and her parents may be of illegitimate birth, but Morgana doesn’t care. They love her and she loves them. 

Having a new life full of people who love her is all that matters to Morgana.

* * *

Mya and Declan smile as they watch their daughter play with toys on a fur rug in the middle of Mya’s bedchamber. Mya and Declan just got done eating their midday meal. No new travelers have arrived asking to go up to the Eyrie, so the couple are taking this rare opportunity to spend some time together along with their little one. 

Declan looks over at the window. Sunlight is shining in through the glass. “It’s such a beautiful day.” Declan says with a smile. “Why don’t we go take a little walk. It’s been a while since we have been able to take a walk together.” 

“Oh yes, a walk will be good for little Morgana.” Mya says with eagerness. 

Mya quickly grabs the blanket from Morgana’s cradle. Mya then carefully wraps Morgana in the blanket. Declan smiles as he opens the bedchamber door for Mya. Mya just smiles as she walks out of the room. Declan follows after his lover. 

Morgana just blinks as she lays her small head against her mother’s shoulder. Morgana thinks of the deity that has been visiting her dreams lately. The night she was born, a woman calling herself a goddess appeared in Morgana’s dreams. The goddess called herself Lady Life and Rebirth. Lady Life and Rebirth then proceeded to tell Morgana that she has a purpose in this world, and when the time is right, she will be reunited with someone who  _ was once dear to her heart _ . Ever since then, the mysterious goddess has been visiting Morgana’s dreams off and on. However, the goddess hasn’t revealed who that  _ someone _ is. 

Morgana then cranes her tiny head to look towards the North. And ever since her birth, Morgana has just had this compulsion to look towards the North every once in a while. It’s almost as if there is something there waiting for her. But...what could it be? 

Morgana then blinks a few times as she thinks about her little secret. Around five moons of age, Morgana discovered that she has retained her magic. Right now, her powers consist of telepathically speaking with animals, entering the minds of animals, moving objects with her mind and making wilting plants bloom again. Of course, no one in the castle knows about Morgana’s powers. Not even her parents. 

Morgana then feels a cool breeze hit her face. She turns her head to see that her parents have taken her outside into the castle’s courtyard. Morgana turns her tiny up towards the Mountain which holds the Eyrie. The white stone castle is shimmering gloriously in the sunlight. Morgana smiles widely at the sight. She loves looking up at the Eyrie. The castle is big and beautiful. 

Declan smiles at his daughter. “Morgana is looking up at the Eyrie again.”

Mya smiles as well. “Morgana just loves looking up at it. I can’t blame her though. That castle is a splendid sight.” 

Then, Declan and Mya come across a small pond with a large oak tree next to it. Lord Nestor is currently sitting on a rock underneath the tree. He is currently sharpening his sword. The Lord of the Gates of the Moon likes to come out here and sit on nice days like this after the midday meal.

Lord Nestor’s son, Ser Albar Royce, is sitting close by. Ser Albar is a lot like his father in that he has a large broad body. Ser Albar has black hair and a black beard which is shaved at his chin. The hair on the sides of Albar’s face frames his cheeks like whiskers. Ser Albar also has his father’s deep-set, roundish almond shaped eyes which are a slate gray color. Right now, Ser Albar is currently sharpening his own sword. 

Lady Myranda Royce is also sitting nearby. Lady Myranda has a large bosom, long curly dark brown hair and warm brown eyes, which she inherited from her mother, Lord Nestor’s now deceased wife. And like her father’s eyes, Myranda’s eyes are deep-set and roundish almond shaped. Sitting next to Lady Myranda is a bowl full of candied almonds, her favorite treat aside from honey and lemon cakes. 

Lord Nestor turns to see Declan and Mya nearby. Declan smiles at his liege lord. “Good day, Lord Nestor. I have to say, it is a very beautiful day today.” 

Lord Nestor smiles. “Aye, indeed it is.” Lord Nestor replies. 

Myranda smiles at the sight of Mya and little Morgana. “Ah, you have brought little Morgana. I have to say, she is growing more and more beautiful everyday.” 

Mya smiles as she glances at her daughter. “Thank you, Lady Myranda.” 

Declan smiles as he tickles Morgana’s chin. “Even though Morgana is of illegitimate birth, I truly feel as though the gods have blessed Mya and I. The two of us could not have asked for a better gift.” 

Just then, a commotion comes from the path leading up to Snow, the second waycastle. Everyone turns to see a mule handler struggling to get control of a mule. Mya’s eyes widen. It is Ossy and the castle’s black female mule, Nightshade. Up on the path, Ossy is holding Nightshade’s reins, and all the while, Nightshade kicks and brays loudly. Mya narrows her eyes at the sight. Nightshade is normally such a calm mule. What has gotten into her? 

Ossy manages to sling himself off of Nightshade and tries to calm her down. However, he looks at his feet and yells. Then, Ossy trips and falls over the ledge. However, the man manages to grab onto the ledge. Ossy...is now dangling over the edge of the cliff. 

“OSSY!” Mya yells with panic. 

Morgana cranes her head towards the sight of the mule handler and guide dangling over the edge of the cliff. The sight reminds her of what happened to her first mother, Vivienne. Then, Lady Life and Rebirth’s voice enters Morgana’s head. 

_...You can save him Morgana. Just use your magic…, _ Lady Life and Rebirth’s voice says. 

Morgana blinks as she holds up her hand.  _ Lady Life and Rebirth is right. _ Morgana thinks to herself.  _ I can save him. _

Just then, Ossy’s hands slip, sending him falling down into the valley below. Morgana’s eyes then start glowing green, along with her tiny hand.  _ NO! _ Morgana thinks. 

As Ossy descends towards the ground, a shield of green energy suddenly surrounds him. The mule handler’s body suddenly stops in midair. Then, Ossy’s body very slowly descends towards the ground. The man’s body is practically floating towards the ground. 

Mya, Declan, Lord Nestor, Ser Albar and Lady Myranda simply look at baby Morgana with wide eyes. The eyes of both Declan and Mya are especially wide. “Morgana?” Mya says questioningly. 

Just then, a gasp comes from nearby. Everyone turns to see the castle’s resident maester, Maester Garth, standing nearby. Maester Garth is a portly man with short graying brown hair and brown eyes. 

Maester Garth’s eyes are wide as he stares at the scene before him. “Ma..ma...magic!” The maester says as he falls to his knees. 

Then, everyone turns to see that Ossy is just a foot off of the ground now. Morgana’s eyes and hand stop glowing. The shield around Ossy dissipates and he lands softly onto the ground. 

“OSSY!” Mya yells out. 

Lord Nestor turns to his son. “Don't just stand there! Go check to see if the man is alright!” 

Albar nods and begins running towards the spot where Morgana set Ossy. Lord Nestor then turns back up to the mountain path to see that Nightshade has calmed down. The black mule is just standing up on the path. The mule looks so lost without her handler. 

Lord Nestor quickly turns to Declan. “Declan, can you go and fetch Nightshade?” 

Declan nods. “Of course, milord.” Declan says as he spares one more glance at his baby daughter before running towards the path. 

Mya just watches her lover leave. The bastard girl then turns her attention back to her daughter, who is grinning. Mya just blinks as she holds her baby girl up in front of her. Mya always knew that her daughter was special. 

However, Mya had no idea that her daughter was quite this  _ special _ . 

Lord Nestor just blinks as he stares at the babe in Mya’s arms, barely believing what he just witnessed. He looks over at his castle’s maester, about to ask for an explanation as to how this can be. However, Lord Nestor sees that the wise maester looks just as dumbfounded as he is. Well, it looks like he isn’t going to get any answers from his castle’s maester anytime soon. 

After a few moments of thinking, Lord Nestor sighs. The Keeper of the Gates of the Moon does know one thing for sure. What he just witnessed is extraordinary and it won’t take long for news to reach the king. Lord Nestor knows that he will have to write the king, telling him of this development. However, one critical question is running through Lord Nestor’s mind right now. 

Just how is he going to explain this to king Robert? Afterall, Mya is King Robert’s bastard daughter, which makes Morgana the bastard  _ granddaughter _ of the king. 

Just how does one explain to their king that  _ his _ own bastard granddaughter has magical powers?

* * *

Lord Nestor is sitting in the great hall with the castle’s maester, along with Mya and Declan. Baby Morgana is sleeping in Mya’s arms. Ser Albar and Lady Myranda are sitting at the large table as well. Everyone is discussing what happened out in the courtyard. 

After Ser Albar returned with Ossy, Lord Nestor questioned his servant on what happened up on the path. Ossy quickly revealed that there was a snake on the path, which he didn’t see until he got off of Nightshade. Then, when he tried to dodge it as it lunged at him, he ended up tripping over the edge of the cliff. Afterwards, when Declan brought Nightshade back down to the courtyard, both him and Ossy inspected the animal for any kind of bite wounds. A single bite mark was found, but as it turns out, the bite wasn’t from a venomous snake, which was a relief to everyone. After Nightshade was put back into her stall, Lord Nestor ordered his castle’s maester to meet with him in the great hall along with Declan and Mya. Ser Albar and Lady Myranda decided to attend the meeting. 

Lord Nestor looks at his castle’s maester. He then glances at the sleeping babe in Mya’s arms. “Maester Garth, magic is not supposed to exist.” Lord Nestor says with a tense voice. “Just how can this be?” 

Maester Garth sighs. “I do not know, milord.” The castle’s maester says with a tense voice. “I have never heard of anyone possessing magical abilities ever in my life.” 

Then, after a few moments, Maester Garth wrings his hands. “However, when I was at Oldtown studying to become a maester many years ago, I heard about an interesting book written by a maester who lived during the time of the andal invasion. According to what my fellow maesters told me, the book actually contained a  _ prophecy _ that the maester had written on his deathbed.” 

Lord Nestor’s eyes narrow considerably. “A prophecy you say?” 

Maester Garth simply nods his head. “According to what my fellow maesters told me regarding the prophecy, the prophecy told of the long night coming again, and that the gods would send magic back to Westeros in order to help the inhabitants of the land get through it. And...that magic would come in the form of two children; a boy and a girl who both carry noble blood within them. And supposedly, these prophesied children would be born on the night of a crescent moon, and a star; bigger and brighter than all the others in the sky, would appear next to it.” 

Maester Garth then glances at baby Morgana, who is still slumbering within Mya’s arms. “I daresay, I actually remember seeing such a sight on the night Morgana was born.” 

Everyone goes silent for a moment. They all glance at the sleeping babe in Mya’s arms. Lord Nestor wrings his hands as he looks at his servant’s infant daughter. Hmm, Morgana may be a bastard child, but she still does carry noble blood within her veins. Maester Garth also said that he remembers seeing a crescent moon along with a very bright star on the night that the child was born. Perhaps...there is some truth to this prophecy. 

Ser Albar clears his throat. “Wait…,” The young knight begins as he looks towards Maester Garth. “Maester Garth, you said that the prophecy tells of  _ a boy and a girl _ with magical abilities. That must mean there is a boy out there with magical abilities as well.” 

Maester Garth, Declan, Mya and the three Royce’s just share looks with one another. Hmm, if this prophecy is really true, then there must be another magically gifted babe out there somewhere in Westeros. The real question is  _ where _ .

After a few minutes, Lord Nestor sighs. “Maester Garth, is there more to this ‘prophecy’?” 

Maester Garth just holds up his hands. “Milord, I will be truthful with you; I only heard of the prophecy and the book. I actually never saw the book or the prophecy with my _own eyes._ Of course, I asked about the whereabouts of the book as I was curious and wanted to read it myself. However, the other maesters at the Citadel simply told me that the book is  _ supposed _ to be in King’s Landing. They told me that when Aegon Targaryen I conquered Westeros, he visited the Citadel and took a few books that interested him to add to his personal library at Dragonstone. The book that contained the prophecy was among the books that Aegon took with him and I imagine that when the Targaryen Palace was completed in King’s Landing, the book was moved there. The story of the book’s existence and the prophecy it contained was passed down through the years at the Citadel, from maester to maester. That is how I heard of it, even though it was no longer within the Citadel itself.” 

Maester Garth then closes his eyes. “All I know is that the book hasn’t been seen by the Citadel since Aegon took it all those years ago, milord. And...there is no guarantee that is still within King’s Landing or even still exists. There is a good chance that the book was lost or even destroyed when the city was sacked during Robert’s Rebellion.” 

Lord Nestor just blinks a few times as he tries to process this information. He then leans back and rubs his chin. “Hmm, if there is a chance that the book wasn’t lost or destroyed, then that means it could still be in the royal palace in King’s Landing.” 

“Which means that King Robert Baratheon might actually have the book.” Ser Albar suddenly says. 

Lord Nestor leans back in his chair. “Even if the king doesn’t have the book, I certainly think that it won’t be long before the King hears of little Morgana’s powers.” 

The man then sighs as he looks over to Mya and Declan. “Mya...Declan, I am afraid that I must write to the king to inform him of this.” Lord Nestor says as he glances at baby Morgana. “King Robert doesn’t like secrets being kept from him, and if I was to try and keep this a secret from him, I could get in trouble with both the king and Lord Arryn.” 

Lord Nestor then turns to Maester Garth. “Maester Garth, prepare a raven. I must go to my study to write a letter.” 

Maester Garth nods. “Of course, milord.” 

With that, both Maester Garth and Lord Nestor get up from the table and leave the room. Mya, Declan, Lady Myranda and Ser Albar are left at the table. Mya then glances down nervously at her daughter. What if the king, her own father, isn’t pleased by this news? What then? 

Myranda notices Mya’s look. “Don’t be nervous Mya.” Myranda says. “Don’t forget that you are the king’s daughter, which makes little Morgana the granddaughter of the king. I am sure everything will be fine. And who knows, King Robert might actually be happy when he hears of this.” 

However, Mya still can’t help but wonder what the king, her father, will think of this. And...what about Lord and Lady Arryn? What about the other lords and ladies in the Vale and the other regions of Westeros? 

Just what is the _entirety_ of Westeros going to say about this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, I dropped a bombshell didn't I?! Morgana has also been reborn. While writing this, I came up with the idea of there being a prophecy about Mordred involving the long night and the white walkers. Then, I realized that once the long night does come, one magical child probably wouldn't do much good against hundreds of white walkers. So, I decided that I wanted to add another magical child to the story, preferably a girl, to add suspense and thicken the plot a little bit. That is how I came up with the idea of Morgana being reborn as well. 
> 
> Here are a few things that I want to point out. In some Arthurian legends, Morgana is described as being the mother of Mordred. Before you get grossed out and think, 'ew, Mordred is destined to marry the reincarnation of his own mother', hear me out. For the whole 'Merlin' part of the story, I am going by the Merlin TV series that aired on BBC in the UK and on NBC and later SYFY in the United States. In that storyline, Mordred and Morgana shared a special bond and Mordred looked up to Morgana as an older sister figure. They were 'not' mother and son in that series. 
> 
> The Game of Thrones part of the story is actually a mixture between the storyline of 'A Game of Thrones TV Series' and 'A Song of Ice and Fire'(also known as ASOIAF) storylines. Here is why I did this:  
> 1\. I wanted characters from both storylines, not just one storyline.   
> 2\. After I decided to add Morgana to the storyline, I knew that I wanted her to be the 'bastard child of two bastards', just like Mordred is so that the two of them would have something in common. In the Game of Thrones storyline, there were not as many bastard characters as in the ASOIAF storyline. And...since Mordred's birth mother was an OC of mine, I wanted Morgana's mother to be an actual character from either storyline and have her father be an OC of mine. I thought about maybe using Oberyn Martell's oldest bastard daughter as Morgana's mother, but I decided that would be too predictable. That is how I came up with the idea of using Mya Stone as Morgana's mother, who is actually the oldest bastard child of King Robert Baratheon.   
> 3\. And don't be confused by the two Myranda's. Ramsay's Myranda and Lady Myranda Royce are two very different characters. Ramsay's Myranda only appears in the Game of Thrones TV series and Lady Myranda Royce only appears in the ASOIAF Books. I am very sorry if there was some confusion when reading this chapter. I want to note that Ramsay's Myranda is 'dead', as Roose Bolton executed her in the last chapter for trying murder Mordred. We really won't be seeing her again, unless I decide to bring her back as a ghost later on in the story(I'm making no promises on that).


	12. Ancient prophecies come to light

King Robert Baratheon sighs as he takes a sip of wine from his golden wine goblet. It is late now and the sun has set. The King leans back in his chair, stuffed from the meal he just ate. In the chair to the right of the King sits the queen, Cersei. Right now, Cersei is currently eating a lemon cake. A wine goblet full of arbor gold sits beside Cersei’s plate of sweets. Also seated at the table are Lord Tywin Lannister, the queen’s father, and the queen’s two brothers; Ser Jaime Lannister and Tyrion Lannister. The members of the King’s small council are also present at the table. 

Sometime after the midday meal today, Grand Maester Pycelle approached the king and explained that he had found some very interesting books hidden in the court’s library, and they all contain something that he feels the king should know about. So the king arranged a small dinner party consisting of the members of his council and his family. Since the King didn’t want to offend his queen, as the two of them just got over a spat involving their son, Prince Joffrey, he invited Lord Tywin Lannister and the queen’s two brothers to the dinner party as well. The plan was to have a nice dinner together and then send the children away so that everyone could discuss the books that Maester Pycelle found. 

For dinner, the king decided that he wanted fish and seafood. For the small feast, the castle’s cooks made a large lamprey pie along with some mussels and lobsters. The mussels were steamed for a little bit and then cooked in a mixture of wine, butter, herbs, pepper and olive oil. The lobsters were boiled and then served with an herb butter sauce made of white wine, butter, garlic, black pepper and various herbs. For the sides, the cooks made green beans, mealy boiled potatoes and a fresh salad. The green beans were cooked with bacon, leeks, garlic, olive oil and pepper. The fresh salad was made with a little bit of cabbage, lentils, radishes and spinach; all tossed together with some lemon juice, olive oil and pepper. Fresh warm bread was also served. 

King Robert looks around at the table that is now filled with platters full of various sweets. The King has to say, dinner was quite scrumptious. However, now that dinner is done with, it is now time to get down to business. Just a few minutes ago, Robert had Cersei send the children away to their bedchambers with plates of sweets so that the adults could talk. When the children left the room, Grand Maester Pycelle went and fetched the books in question. He just got back a minute ago. 

Robert sighs as he sets his wine goblet down on the table. “Now that dinner is done with, let’s get down to business shall we.” King Robert begins with his booming voice. He stares across the table towards Grand Maester Pycelle, who is sitting in his own chair. “Grand Maester Pycelle, do tell me about those interesting books you found in the library?”

The old Grand Maester sighs. Next to him is a stack of four different books. “My King, I have four books that pertain to the four different cultures that dominate or have dominated Westeros; First men, Andal, Rhoygnar and Valyian. Milord, held within each book is a very similar prophecy.” 

King Robert’s eyes narrow considerably as he takes another sip of his wine. Hmm, four similar prophecies that are from four different cultures. This is very interesting indeed. The king quickly clears his throat. 

“Hmm, four prophecies from four different cultures that share similarities?” King Robert asks. “Tell me, wise old grand maester, what do these prophecies pertain to?” 

“Each one of these prophecies contains an excerpt about a very long and harsh winter striking Westeros during a time of great upheaval.” Pycelle says with a tense voice. “To me, the descriptions sound a lot like the ancient stories of the long night.” 

Lord Tywin raises a brow. “There are plenty of stories regarding the long night. Why are these prophecies special?” 

Pycelle sighs. “The thing is, the old Andal and Rhoynar books were written before those cultures arrived in Westeros. The Valyrian prophecy was written sometime after the Targaryens arrived on Dragonstone. However, the way that the prophecies are worded isn’t past tense like the ancient stories of the long night. This leaves only one possibility. The people who wrote these books were all predicting a _second_ long night.” 

The entire room goes deathly silent for a moment. Then, Ser Barristan Selmy, master of the kingsguard, lets out a laugh. “Ha, a second long night?!” 

However, King Robert just leans back in his chair as he thinks more about this. The King has always believed that stories are rooted in truth. And...given the uneven seasons, King Robert does believe in the possibility that there was a decade-long winter in the distant past. 

And...who’s to say that won’t happen again?

King Robert blinks a few times as he wrings his hands. “Hmm, I do believe that all stories must be rooted in some truth and given the uneven seasons in Westeros, I do believe in the possibility that there was a decade-long winter in the very distant past.” 

Queen Cersei, her father, her brothers and the members of the king’s council just give the king wide eyed looks. _Really?_ The king believes in the story of the long night?

After a few moments, Robert looks at Grand Maester Pycelle. “Grand Maester Pycelle, is there more to these prophecies?” 

The Grand Maester nods. “Yes my king.” the wise old Grand Maester says with a tense voice. He then picks up the first book off of the stack and opens it up. “I shall start with the prophecy of the First men as it is the most descriptive of all the prophecies. It was written by a maester who lived during the time of the great Andal invasion. And believe me my king, the first part of this prophecy is not good.” 

The Grand Maester clears his throat and begins reading out loud from the book. “In the land of Westeros, the people shall one day be united under one Great King. It shall be during the reign of one these future great kings when a long summer full of bountiful harvests and prosperity comes to the land. However, towards the end of this long summer, there shall come a time of great political upheaval, which shall see into the following autumn and winter.” 

King Robert just blinks a few times as he tries to process this information. A time of great political upheaval? Hmm, that doesn’t sound very good. 

The queen, her family members and the other members of the king’s council just share looks with one another. All of them are thinking the same thing as King Robert. A time of great political upheaval is certainly not a good thing. 

Grand Maester Pycelle clears his throat as he continues to read the text before him. “With this terrible upheaval, there shall come terrible strife, war, death and misery. New kings shall rise to contend for the great throne and fall just as quickly. Lords shall battle for supremacy and noble houses shall disappear forever. In the great war that shall come with this terrible time, the common people will wallow in their misery as they watch their lords and kings fight to the death.” 

The queen, her family and the rest of the king’s council share looks again. This is certainly very foreboding. 

King Robert blinks a few times. He grips the table with his hands until his knuckles turn white. “Is there more Grand Maester Pycelle?” The king asks with a very tense voice. 

The wise old Grand Maester sighs. “Yes, milord...and I am afraid that it gets much worse.” 

After a few tense moments, Pycelle takes a deep breath and continues to read. “The winter that shall follow this terrible time will bring great cold to the land of Westeros; the likes of which no man has seen before. Lest one is prepared, great kings, lords and smallfolk alike shall freeze and starve. And from the farthest reaches of the North, the dreaded whitewalkers shall once again return to destroy both man and beast. Alas, lest the whitewalkers are stopped, all Westerosi life shall cease to exist.” 

The table goes deathly silent for a moment. Then, Ser Barristan Selmy lets out a laugh. “Whitewalkers?! That is blasphemy!” The master of the kingsguard says as he laughs. 

However, no one else laughs. Everyone at the table just shares looks of disbelief, albeit with a little bit of terror and dread. If this prophecy truly does come true, then what will become of Westeros? What will become of civilization? 

Robert closes his eyes and grips the table even harder. “This is just terrible.” The king says with a low yet tense voice. He opens his eyes and looks at Pycelle. “Grand Maester Pycelle, is there more?” 

Pycelle nods as he sighs. “It says that the coming of this terrible time shall be preceded by a red comet appearing in the sky.” 

Everyone else who is sitting at the table starts whispering to one another. Tyrion Lannister then clears his throat. “Hmm, I haven’t seen a red comet in the sky. Perhaps we have time to prepare.” 

Jon Arryn, the hand of the king, then clears his own throat. “However, the prophecy states that this time shall be preceded by a long summer. This summer has lasted over eight years already. There is a very good chance that this terrible time shall come very soon.” 

King Robert just grumbles and covers his face with his hands. “Oh, if this prophecy has truth to it, then what am I going to do?” 

Pycelle then clears his throat again. “My king, do not grieve. There may be hope yet.” 

King Robert uncovers his face. He looks at his Grand Maester with wide yet curious eyes. “Hope?” 

Pycelle nods his head and looks back down at the book in question. “Yes milord.” The Grand Maester then clears his throat as he begins reading again. “To give the inhabitants of Westeros a chance to destroy the evil whitewalkers once and for all, and help them get through the long winter, the gods shall send a special gift to the land of Westeros.” 

The king’s eyes become wide. “A _gift_ you say? Grand Maester Pycelle, what is this gift?” 

Pycelle clears his throat. “During the long summer that shall precede this long winter, the gods shall bless two children; a boy and a girl of noble blood and first men descent with magical powers.”

Everyone goes silent for a moment. Queen Cersei sets her wine goblet down. “Magic is not a gift. According to the faith, all magic is _evil_.” 

Lord Stannis Baratheon, the younger brother of the king and master of ships, crosses his arms. “Hmm, the faith does preach against the use of magic, denouncing it as pure evil. However, I have to say that I do question that. You see, I once read about ancient magic users within the land of Westeros being able to cure others of ailments and giving barren women fertility. That does not sound _evil_ to me.” 

Stannis then closes his eyes. “Besides, even though I am a pious man as I despise prostitution, I did lose faith in the Seven long ago. You see, the day that my dear parents drowned in shipbreaker bay, I prayed all that day for the Seven to see them safely home. However, their ship sank anyway. And ever since I married, I prayed for a strong and healthy son. However, the Seven gave me three _dead born_ sons and one daughter, Shireen. Then, Shireen, my only child, was afflicted with greyscale as a baby.” 

Stannis sets his wine goblet down. “As Shireen lied in her bedchamber suffering, I prayed to the Seven to heal her. It may be true that Shireen lived but she was left with a horrific scar on her face. As you can see, the Seven have continuously _ignored_ my prayers.” 

Robert looks down at his wine goblet as he thinks of his own misfortunes. “Aye, my own faith in the Seven began to waver when I watched my parents die in shipbreaker bay. Then, when my beloved Lyanna was kidnapped by that vile Rhaegar Targaryen, I prayed to the Seven every single night for her to be returned to me. However, when Lyanna was finally returned to me...she was dead. Now her bones lie in Winterfell’s crypts. That day, I truly lost faith in the Seven.” 

Everyone looks back and forth between the two brothers. Hmm, King Robert and Lord Stannis both admit that they have lost faith in the Seven. Very interesting. 

Lord Tywin Lannister sets his own wine goblet down. “Even though I follow the Faith, I do believe that all stories must be rooted in some truth as well. If the whitewalkers truly do exist, ancient stories describe them using very dark magic. Alas, if the whitewalkers truly do return, it may very well take magic to defeat them.” 

Tyrion sets his wine goblet down and wipes his mouth. “I have to agree with my father. If the Whitewalkers do exist, then fighting back with magic may be the only way to defeat them.” 

Jaime Lannister drinks some of his wine. “I do agree with my father and brother on that. Besides, my dear nephew Joffrey will one day be the king of Westeros. If this prophecy was to come true during Joffrey’s reign and all life within Westeros was destroyed, Joffrey would not have any subjects to rule over.” 

Tyrion almost feels like scoffing at the word ‘nephew’. Tyrion knows the truth as to why his elder brother is saying this. Joffrey, as well as little Tommen and Myrcella are actually _his_ children and not King Robert’s. 

“The whitewalkers would probably kill Prince Joffrey as well.” Petyr Baelish, Master of coin says. “Then, the Land of Westeros would truly be lost.” 

Lord Jon Arryn, hand of the king, sighs. “I have to say that even though I am from a very old Andal bloodline and House, I have always questioned exactly why the faith of the seven denounces magic use. Granted, texts dating back to before the Andal invasion of Westeros are incredibly scarce, but here is what I have read regarding ancient Andalos. Some of the Andals predominant practices and customs, such as knighthood, chivalry and the ban on homosexual relationships were already a part of Andal civilization _before_ the Seven appeared to the Andals in Andalos. However, there is barely any mention of magic in those texts or why it is denounced as evil. And when I read texts regarding the very first words of the Seven, it didn’t actually say that the Seven themselves denounced magic.”

The old Lord of the Eyrie then holds his hands up. “Therefore, I do not know where the Faith’s hatred of magic came from.”

Pycelle then points to the stack of books again. He then holds up a book made of very old brown leather. There is red colored writing on the front of the book. “This is the old Andalos book.” Pycelle says. “If fact, it is more like a telling of the history of the Andal people before the coming of the faith. Aside from the prophecy, there is a story in here that could explain the Faith’s hatred of magic.” 

King Robert narrows his eyes. “A story you say? Go on then, tell us this story.” 

However, Grand Maester Pycelle turns back to the book in front of him. “Milord, I am not finished with the prophecy of the First men yet. After I am done, I will reveal the Andal prophecy and the story of magic in old Andalos.” 

King Robert sighs. “Very well then. Continue on.” 

Pycelle turns back to the book in front of him. “The blessed children shall be born on the night of a crescent moon and a star; bigger and brighter than all the others in the sky, shall appear next to it. These magically blessed children shall possess many powers which shall include and not be limited to; skin changing with man or beast, moving objects with their minds or with a flick of their hands, speaking to both men and beast with their minds and not their tongues, controlling the elements of fire, air, earth and water, and controlling and calming storms with a flick of their hands. When the blessed children dream or stand in front of a heart tree, they will be able to predict future events and even speak with the gods themselves. However, the most remarkable power that the children shall possess is the ability to heal any sickness or injury with a simple touch of their hands. Even though the children shall not be able to raise the dead, they will be able to heal both man and beast that are on the verge of death. Even wilting plants will bloom again under the children’s touch. And depending on the severity of a person’s affliction or ailment, the blessed children will be able to cure most blindness, deafness, mutism and lameness. Even a simple touch from both children will cure women of barrenness.” 

Pycelle stops reading to take a sip of his wine. While he is doing that the king looks around at the table. Most of the members of the council are looking back and forth between one another with wide eyes. 

Tyrion takes a sip of his wine. “Hmm, curing people of blindness, deafness, mutism and lameness is pretty remarkable if you ask me.” 

Lord Petyr Baelish sips some of his own wine. “I agree. Curing women of barrenness is also pretty remarkable if you ask me.” 

Varys just sits silently in his seat. The eunuch is trying to process everything just told to him. Deep down, Varys hates anything that has to do with magic, due to what happened to him in Myr as a young boy. However, from what Varys has heard so far regarding this prophecy, he knows one thing for sure. If this prophecy has truth to it, these prophesied magical children will be nothing like the sorcerer who striped him of his manhood. 

Healing people on the brink of death...making wilting plants bloom again...curing people of sickness, injuries and disabilities and making barren women fertile doesn’t sound _evil_ to Vary’s at all. 

Lord Renly sips some of his own wine. “If this prophecy has any truth to it, then these children will certainly be a gift to all of Westeros.” 

King Robert sips some of his own wine. “Hmm, I agree with my brother.” 

Pycelle blinks a few times as he continues to read. “Not only will these blessed children be gifted with such powers, they shall also be gifted with advanced intellect and the ability to charm those around them. With these powers, along with help from many noble houses and brave soldiers, the blessed children will battle the whitewalkers and their deadly wights to restore peace to Westeros. If the children succeed in destroying the evil whitewalkers, all of Westeros shall be saved and peace shall be restored. However, If the children fail, all Westerosi life will be extinguished forever. The land shall thus be ruled by the dead and locked in snow, ice and darkness forever.” 

Everyone who is gathered at the table just looks at one another with very tense eyes. Hmm, even if these magical children are born, there is no guarantee that they will save Westeros from the whitewalkers. 

“There is more.” Maester Pycelle says with a tense voice. “It says here that if the children are successful in saving the entirety of Westeros from the Whitewalkers, and survive the long night themselves, the children shall grow up and _marry_. They shall then become rulers over the boy’s ancestral castle. Their land shall prosper under their rule and the gods shall bless them with many children, all of whom will inherit their parent’s magical abilities.” 

The table goes silent for a moment. Everyone looks at the king. Robert just blinks a few times as he sips his wine. “Hmm, very interesting.” The king says. “Is there more?” 

Pycelle nods his head and holds up the book so that everyone can see the page he is on. “Whoever wrote down this prophecy drew a diagram of the crescent moon and star mentioned in each prophecy. There is a similar diagram in the other books as well.” 

King Robert and the other people at the table just lean in to examine the diagram closer. On the far left side of the page is a drawing of a crescent moon. Directly to the right side of the moon is a large star.

After a minute or so Pycelle closes the book and sets it down. “That is it.” Maester Pycelle says. He then grabs the old Andalos book and opens it up. “Alright, time for the story of magic in Old Andalos.” 

Pycelle flips through a few pages until he finds the one he is looking for. “My king, there is also something that you should know. From what I can tell by the way the ink is dried on the pages, the book was at least written some 6,000 years ago, around the time of the Andal invasion. And...whoever wrote this text states that the Andals settled down in Andalos some five millennia ago. This means that the date of the Andals settling of Andalos must be around 11,000 BC.”

King Robert and the others at the table just share looks with one another. Hmm, 11,000 BC? That is very old indeed. But, the stories of the creation of Andal civilization only date back to 8,000 BC at the most. How is this possible? 

Queen Cersei crosses her arms. “The High Septons and the earliest Andal texts only date back to 8,000 BC at the most. Just how is this possible?” 

Tyrion frowns as he looks at his older sister. “Well sister, this means that Andal civilization and culture is much older than previously thought.” 

Jon Arryn then frowns when he realizes what this means. For some reason, the Faith must have _deliberately_ left out this period of Andal culture and civilization. But why? 

Pycelle then clears his throat as he begins reading the text before him. “It was nearly five millennia ago when our great people arrived in the land now called Andalos. Back then, our people were simple nomadic herders, traders and hunter-gatherers, who all lived in large tribes made up of extended families. Our people were attracted to the Andalos hills and surrounding flatlands for the fertile soil, grasslands, beautiful hills and streams. Surrounding the hills were sparse forests, which were home to trees of fruits and nuts; good food for our people. However, the land was not a free country, for the land was already occupied by a race of hideous hairy men. Alas, for many generations, our people fought the hairy men in a bloody war to claim dominance over the land. Then, after some five generations of warfare, the hairy men were finally driven out of the Andalos hills forever, leaving our people to claim the land as their own.” 

King Robert and the others at the table just share looks with one another. Hmm, such humble beginnings for a people who would one day go on to conquer a continent across the sea. However, according to ancient texts, that is how most great civilizations start out. The people start out as simple herders and traders that decide to settle down in an area. 

Pycelle takes a deep breath as he continues reading. “As our people settled down along the land, the tribes took their names from the areas of their settlement. The names of these tribes were Stony Hill, Coastal Sands, Rolling Plains and River. The Stony Hill tribe made their home in the Andalos hills. The Coastal Sands tribe made their home along the coastal beaches and waters. The Rolling Plains tribe made their home on the rolling plains west of the Andalos Hills. The River tribe made their homes along the rivers. However, as the population began to grow, the tribes split up into many different clans, each of which was led by a patriarch and matriarch. From the Stony Hill tribe came the Hill, High Hill, Sunstone, Forest and Blackstone clans. From the Coastal Sands tribe came the Shining Sea, Blue Wave, Bright Sun, Sandy Beach and Storm Clans. From the Rolling Plains tribe came the Tall Grass, Wind, Moon, Sky, and Star Clans. From the River tribe came the Big River, Little River, Little Stream, Bluewater and Clearwater Clans.” 

Jon Arryn leans back in his chair. Hmm, one of the clans mentioned was called ‘Hill’, and the legendary figure who founded the Faith of the Seven was called Hugor of the Hill. Could Hugor have been from the Hill clan then? 

Pycelle takes a sip of wine before he continues. “Now here is the description of the Ancient Andal’s religion.” Pycelle says as he flips over to the next page. “Back then, our people’s religion was based upon earthly spirits and gods which inhabited the land. Our Ancient ancestors also believed that when a person dies, his or her soul would ascend to the heavens...and become a star. The souls of the deceased would then watch over their descendants forever. At night, whenever anyone looked up at the stars, they would see the faces of their deceased loved ones.”

Pycelle looks up from the book. “I suppose you could say that the religion of the Ancient Andals was very much like the religion of the First Men.” 

Everyone who is seated at the table just shares looks of surprise. So the Andals first religion was a lot like the religion of the First men and the legendary children of the Forest? That is such a revelation indeed. 

Maester Pycelle clears his throat. “For three hundred years, the Andal clans peacefully worked the land. Through their trade, they learned to farm, rear animals other than goats and sheep, create weapons of iron and steel, and to build more stronger and permanent structures. The various clans branched off into many other clans, which spread out all across the land. Then, in time, the bigger and wealthier clans built themselves small cities of fortified stone and declared themselves lords of their lands, while the smaller and more humbler clans created small villages. The smaller clans would swear loyalty to the overlords of the land in which they lived, creating alliances. Some clans decided not to take names and therefore became simple peasants, working the land for their overlords. However, even though the Andals civilization was advancing, warfare and strife soon found its way to the Andals again. The various overlords began to fight for dominance and wealth, which brought a great deal of suffering, death and misery to the land.” 

Varys frowns. Such is the story when it comes to lords. Most lords it seems are never happy with what they have, and thus they feel the need to add more land and wealth to their name, which creates _war_. 

Pycelle takes a deep breath. “Then, after five hundred years of warfare, the clans agreed to a pact in which they would elect a king to lead them all.” 

Everyone who is seated at the table sits silently as they take in the wise old Grand Maester’s words. They all share looks with one another. Hmm, the stories of the Faith describe Hugor of the Hill as being the very first king of the Andals yet the earliest stories of him only go back to 6,000 BC. Could there have been kings that the Faith didn’t bother to mention? 

After a minute, Jon Arryn frowns once he realizes what this means. The Faith must have deliberately erased the kings that came before Hugor from their written and oral history as the stories of those kings didn’t align with their beliefs or teachings. 

“The king that the Andals eventually chose was a man from the Sunstone clan, named Martyn.” Pycelle says. Pycelle then glances at King Robert. “The next three pages describe many events that took place during King Martyn Sunstone’s reign. However, to make this meeting go quicker, I shall read off the important stuff.” 

After a few moments of silence, Pycelle clears his throat as he starts reading again. “Alas, King Martyn Sunstone’s reign lasted for fifty years, which brought peace and stability to the once war torn region. During his reign, King Martyn established the code of chivalry and knighthood in order to defend the weak and innocent in Andalos. It was a year after his reign began when King Martyn knighted the very first knights in Andalos. King Martyn also created the Andal Alphabet and created the very first written works in his kingdom. The king also established laws banning homesexual relationships, kinslaying and incest. King Martyn also established the code of hospitality within Andalos, which stated that if hosts provided a guest with any food or drink, then they were honor bound to protect the guests and give them shelter for the night. King Martyn also created the first order of Septons and Septas. Back then, Septons and Septas were healers, scribes and advisors to the King. They were also teachers to the young. The septons and septas would travel around the land to heal people of illness, write down important events and teach the children in the various villages and cities the word of the king. The Septons and Septas didn’t discriminate when it came to teaching children either. They taught both noble and peasant children.” 

Cersei blinks a few times. Hmm, so the order of Septons and Septas didn’t begin with the Faith then. It began with King Martyn who wanted to spread the word of his laws to everyone within his kingdom; from the highborn nobles down to the low born peasants. Very interesting indeed. 

Pycelle then takes a deep breath as he flips over to the next page. “When King Martyn died, his death was mourned by everyone within the Kingdom. However, before the king died, one of his most loyal scribes had a prophetic dream. The king apparently believed in it, so he ordered his scribe to write it down for future generations to read.” 

King Robert blinks. “Maester Pycelle, are you talking about the old Andalos prophecy?” 

Pycelle nods. “Yes my king, I am.” Maester Pycelle then takes a deep breath. “It isn’t as descriptive as the first prophecy, but it is seemingly describing the same thing.” 

Pycelle then flips over to the next page. He clears his throat as he begins reading again. “One day, our great people shall conquer a land across the sea where summers and winters last for years. It will be during a long summer when a time of great upheaval strikes the land, causing untold death and suffering. The winter that shall follow will be long and will be the darkest and coldest winter ever known in the land. And...from the farthest reaches of the North shall come evil demons made of ice, who shall wish to destroy both man and beast. These ice demons shall wreak havoc across the land, and those they kill shall rise again and become their mindless servants. Alas, if these evil ice demons are not stopped, all life and civilization within our future land shall cease to exist. The land shall thus be locked in icy darkness forever. However, do not fear, as the gods shall send a special gift to save all life from the clutches of the ice demons. This gift shall come in the form of two magically gifted children; a boy and girl, both with noble blood running through their veins. These blessed children will be born on the night of a crescent moon and a star; brighter than all the rest in the night sky, shall appear next to the moon. The children shall either save the land from the ice demons or they shall fail. If the children succeed in defeating the evil ice demons and their resurrected servants, peace shall be restored to the land. The children will then grow up to marry and become rulers over their own land. However, if the children fail, they shall die and the ice demons will succeed in destroying all life and civilization.” 

Everyone who is gathered at the table just looks at one another with eyes full of shock. Hmm, two prophecies, from two different cultures, are describing the same thing. Hmm, very interesting indeed. 

Pycelle sighs. He takes a quick swig from his wine goblet before he continues. “After King Martyn’s death, his son, Arlic Sunstone, became king of the Andals. Alas, the Sunstone kings ruled over Andalos for just over two millennia, bringing peace, stability and wealth to the land. And back then, magic wasn’t despised. In fact, magic was once revered by the people as it could be used to cure sickness and injuries and even barrenness in women. Septons and Septas were often magic users and Sorcerers were highly regarded as counselors to the Kings of Andalos. To have a child born with magic was considered a great blessing.” 

King Robert and the members of his council just share looks with one another. The queen also shares looks with her father and brothers. Hmm, this is a far cry from what the Faith preaches. However, as Jon Arryn says, there is no evidence in the earliest known Andal texts that the Seven actually denounced magic as evil when they showed themselves to the Andals some 6000 years ago. 

After a few moments, King Robert crosses his arms. So, if magic was once revered in Ancient Andalos as Grand Maester Pycelle claims, and there is no evidence to show that the Seven themselves denounced magic, then what could have happened to change the Andals views on magic? 

Pycelle sighs. “However, it was some two thousand years after King Martyn Sunstone’s death when Vortigern Sunstone, a descendant of King Martyn, became king of Andalos. It was during the reign of king Vortigern when things changed dramatically in Andalos. Things were never the same again.” 

King Robert blinks a few times. “Hmm, what happened Grand Maester Pycelle?” 

Pycelle sighs. “King Vortigern’s first wife died in childbirth with their third son. Some years after her death, Vortigern decided to marry a sorceress. However, the king’s new wife betrayed him by bedding a well known sorcerer in the land of Andalos. Well, King Vortigern caught them and the king’s response was very predictable. The king, in his rage, put his second wife and her lover to death. However, the betrayal from his wife made Vortigern hate _all_ magic users, even those who used their magic to heal. Eventually, King Vortigern decided that he was going to _eliminate_ all magic from his land.” 

Tyrion blinks a few times. “What happened?” 

Pycelle sighs. “It was an absolute _massacre_.” Pycelle says with a tense voice. “First, King Vortigern killed all of his wife’s family members down to the last babe. Even those who were not known magic users were put to death. The King was aware that magic could be inherited so he decided that anyone who was connected to a magical bloodline had to be put to death to prevent more magic users from being born within his land. In fact, the king was so blinded by his rage...he even put his own magically gifted family members to death. In fact, the book says King Vortigern killed some of his magically gifted family members by his own hand.” 

King Robert’s eyes become wide. “Blimey, King Vortigern committed _kinslaying_!” 

Pycelle nods sadly. “Yes, and unfortunately, King Vortigern didn’t stop there. After putting his wife’s family and his magically gifted family members to death, King Vortigern moved onto others who were in his close circle. The king killed the soldiers and knights under his command who were known to use magic, suspected of using magic or who were from magical bloodlines. King Vortigern also killed any Septons and Septas who used magic or who were from magical bloodlines. Then, with his remaining soldiers, King Vortigern went out across the land and killed anyone who was known to use magic, suspected of using magic or was known to be descended from a magical bloodline. Men, women, children and even babes...were put to the sword. By the end of King Vortigern’s rampage, over half of the population within Andalos had been ruthlessly cut down on his orders...and the High Hill, Wave, Tallgrass, Big River and Forest Clans became extinct, their lineages lost forever.” 

The eyes of everyone within the room becomes wide immediately. Not only did King Vortigern commit the unspeakable act of kinslaying, he also killed over half of the population within the Land of Andalos? All because his sorceress wife slighted him by committing adultery with a sorcerer. 

That is just seriously messed up. 

Tyrion crosses his arms. “Hmm, King Vortigern killed over half of his own people just because his wife’s betrayal hurt his ego. Some king he must have been.” 

Pycelle sighs. “After that, King Vortigern banned all forms of magic within Andalos. He even closed off the borders of Andalos to lands known to harbor magic users, even at the cost of his people’s wealth. Then, the king ordered his scribes to burn all written works pertaining to magic, which the scribes did so reluctantly as many of the works were historical.” 

Tyrion crosses his arms. “Perhaps that is why there are no written accounts of the past before Hugor of the Hill. King Vortigern must have ordered all texts from that time to be burned.” 

King Robert narrows his eyes as he looks at the book within Grand Maester Pycelle’s hands. “Hmm, if King Vortigern ordered all works pertaining to magic to be burned, then how come that book exists?” 

Pycelle looks at the book. “I have also wondered the same thing my king. I would have to say that someone hid this book from King Vortigern and his men to prevent it from being destroyed. Obviously someone believed in the prophecy it contained.” 

Pycelle sighs as he looks back down at the book. “King Vortigern also ordered the remaining Septons and Septas to spread the word about the evils of magic and to punish anyone who spoke out against his new policies. People were whipped, tortured and even hanged if they spoke out against the King’s ban on magic. The King also made sure to pass on his hatred of magic to the three sons which his first wife had given him. When King Vortigern died, his oldest son became king and upheld his father’s ban on magic. However, that son died without an heir so Vortigern’s second son became king and he upheld his father’s laws as well. Then, when that son died without an heir, Vortigern’s last son became king for around ten years before he died without an heir. Vortigern’s line was thus extinguished forever. Some say it was punishment from the gods for what King Vortigen did to his people.” 

King Robert, the rest of the small council, the queen and the three Lannister men all share looks with one another. Hmm, if that is true, then it would serve King Vortigern right for his cruelty. 

Pycelle sighs. “However, even though King Vortigern’s bloodline had been extinguished, the seed of hatred that he had planted within his people regarding magic couldn’t be extinguished. And with the death of Vortigern’s last son, Vortigern’s remaining relatives began to fight for the throne. Alas, Vortigern’s relations ended up destroying one another. The Sunstone clan name thus became extinct forever.” 

Pycelle then takes a quick drink of wine before he continues on. “Alas, the Andals never had another king until Hugor of the Hill. The clans fought and fought for dominance again, which resulted in the extinction of the Sea, Sand, Moon, Sky, Little River and Little Stream clans. It says here that by 6,000 BC, the only noble clans which remained were the Hill, Blackstone, Sun, Storm, Wind, Star, Clearwater and Bluewater clans. Hugor, who was of the Hill clan, had just become the leader of the Hill clan when he arranged for a truce between all of the Andal Clans. Alas, the warring clans traveled to Hugor’s home in the Andalos hills to discuss the terms of the truce and that is when the Seven supposedly appeared before the people of Andalos.” 

Pycelle sighs. “The description of the meeting between the Seven and the people of Andalos is quite vague to say the least. However, it does say that the Seven preached their vision for the people of Andalos to Hugor himself, which is why the people of Andalos crowned Hugor as their new king. The Seven also reportedly blessed a young maiden from the Sun clan and told Hugor that if he was to take her as his wife, she would give him many children...and that his descendants would become kings and lords. Well, after some time passed, the people of Andalos decided to abandon their clan names and thus created the Noble Andal houses that would go on to conquer Westeros.” 

Pycelle looks at Jon Arryn. “It says here that Hugor’s eldest son would go on to found the Great house of Arryn.” 

The Lord of the Eyrie just blinks a few times. According to stories told by his mother, the House of Arryn was supposed to be descended from Hugor of the Hill himself, but there was really no proof of such a claim. However, this book just confirmed what Jon heard during his childhood. 

Pycelle then wrings his hands. “The Seven apparently told Hugor that in order to follow their light and vision, his people must adhere to the codes of chivalry, knighthood, honor and hospitality; adding some new provisions to those codes. The Seven also denounced prostitution and homosexuality, along with kinslaying and incest. However, nowhere in here does it say that the Seven _denounced_ magic use.” 

King Robert looks at his council. The members of the King’s council just sit silently in their seats. The Queen is also silent, along with Lord Tywin, Ser Jaime and Lord Tyrion. The revelation that has just been made is quite stunning to say the least. 

The Faith’s hatred of magic didn’t actually start with the Faith itself. It started with a King who was so embittered by his wife’s adultery, he committed the unspeakable act of kinslaying along with murdering over half of his own people. 

Tyrion “Not only did the Andals bring knighthood and chivalry to Westeros, they also brought their hatred of magic, which had been instilled within them by King Vortigern Sunstone.” 

Pycelle sighs. “Apparently so.” 

Pycelle then holds up the book so that everyone can see the page that he is on. “This is the drawing of the crescent moon and the star for this prophecy.” 

King Robert and the other people at the table just lean in to examine the diagram closer. On the far left side of the page is a drawing of a crescent moon. Directly to the right side of the moon is a large star. Hmm, the diagram looks a lot like the drawing from the Old Westeros book. Very interesting indeed.

King Robert blinks a few times. “Is that all Grand Maester Pycelle?” 

Pycelle nods and sets the Andalos book aside. He then picks up another book, which is made up of very old looking paper and grayish leather. There is red and gold writing on the cover. 

“This is the old Rhoynar prophecy.” Pycelle says with a sigh. “From the way the ink is dried, the book has to be at least twelve hundred years old. And...from the wording, I have to say that it was written in the old Rhoyne cities sometime before the Rhoynish wars with the Valyrian Freehold.” 

Pycelle then clears his throat as he starts reading. “One day, our people will be forced to sail across the sea to escape slavery. We shall settle down in a new land far across the narrow sea and within this land shall be men with pale skin, light eyes and light hair. There shall also be fearsome beasts such as striped black cats, large lions, wolves as large as bears...and summers and winters that shall last for years. It shall be during a long summer that great political upheaval will strike the land, tearing it and its people apart. Lords and Kings shall rise and fall. The common people will starve in their huts while nobles fight for supremacy over the land. The winter following this upheaval shall be a terrible one; one wracked with storms and cold never before known to the people of that land. And...from the farthest land in the North, evil beings made of ice and dark magic shall come to destroy both man and beast. Alas, if these evil beings are not stopped, civilization and all life shall cease to exist within the land. To save all of the inhabitants of that land from death and destruction, the gods above shall bless a boy and girl of noble blood with magic. These blessed children shall be born on the night of a crescent moon, and a star bigger and brighter than all of the others in the sky, shall appear next to the moon. If these children manage to defeat the evil beings from the North, peace shall be restored to the land. The children will then go on to marry and become rulers of the lands belonging to the boy’s family. However, if the children fail, the evil ice beings shall win and destroy the magical children and all life within the land.” 

King Robert leans back in his chair. Hmm, it seems that whoever wrote that prophecy in the old Rhoyne Cities must have foreseen how the land would be conquered by the Valyrians, and how the people living in the cities would be forced to flee. And...the prophecy is referring to two children being born with magical powers; just like the First Men and old Andalos prophecies. Very interesting indeed.

Pycelle then holds up the book so that everyone who is seated at the table can see the page he is on. There is a drawing of a crescent moon and a star. The drawing looks exactly like the first two drawings. King Robert blinks a few times. This is getting really interesting now. 

Pycelle sighs as he closes up the old Rhoynar book. The old Grand Maester and picks up the last book. The cover of the last book is made up of gray leather with silver and purple writing on it. 

“This is the Valyrian book.” Pycelle says as he opens up the book. “From what I can tell, it was written sometime around 114 BC by Aenar Targaryen. As you all know, Aenar Targaryen’s daughter, Daenys, foresaw the doom of the Valyrian empire in a dream.” 

King Robert narrows his eyes. “Hmm, yes, I know the story of how those damn Targaryens came to Westeros to escape the great doom in the Valyrian freehold. What about it?” 

Pycelle sighs as he glances down at the book. “Apparently Daenys had more prophetic dreams than that, and Aenar recorded each dream that his daughter had in this book. All of these pages seem to be devoted directly to Daenys dreams...and there is one page that really interests me.” 

Pycell then takes a deep breath as he starts reading. “During a long summer within the great Land in which we have settled, there will come great political upheaval which shall split the land apart. Great Kings and lords shall rise and fall as they all fight for supremacy. The common people shall starve and die miserably within their huts. The winter following this terrible upheaval shall be just as long and it will bring terrible cold to the land. There shall come terrible cold and storms that shall freeze both man and beast to the bone. And...from the farthest land in the North of our new land, evil beings made of ice and dark magic shall rise from the snow. These beings shall invade the land with one purpose. To destroy all life, both and beast. If these evil beings are not stopped, civilization and all life in our new home shall cease to exist. However, there shall come a ray of hope. In order to save the land from the evil beings in the far north, the great gods above will bless a boy and girl of noble blood with magical abilities. The blessed babes shall come on the night of a crescent moon. A star; bigger and brighter than all of the others in the sky, shall appear next to the moon. With their abilities, these children will be able to fight these evil ice beings and give all life within our new home a chance to continue and thrive. If the blessed children survive the fight with these evil ice beings, they shall go on to marry and have many magical children of their own. However, if the children die and fail to defeat the evil ice beings, all life and civilization within our new homeland shall come to an end.” 

Pycelle then holds up the open book for everyone to see. On one of the pages is a drawing of a crescent moon and a star. Everyone who is seated at the table just leans in closer for a better look. Hmm, this drawing is exactly like the first three drawings. This is very interesting indeed. 

King Robert leans back in his chair. Hmm, four very similar drawings and prophecies. This can’t be a coincidence. “Hmm, perhaps there is something to these prophecies.” King Robert says. “Grand Maester Pycelle, is there more?” 

Grand Maester sighs as he closes up the book and sets it aside. “That is all my king. However, I must tell you that I saw a crescent moon in the sky around nine moons ago, along with a star. In fact, it looked exactly as the drawings.” 

Lord Tywin’s eyes become wide. “Hmm, this means that if these prophecies have any truth to them, then the magical children have _already_ been born.” The Lord of Casterly Rock muses.

King Robert then crosses his arms as he thinks of something. “You all want to know what I just thought of?”

Jon Arryn blinks a few times. “What is it my king?”

“It will only be a matter of time before those two damn dragonspawn come to try and take my throne from me.” King Robert says with a slightly tense voice. Then, the king smirks slightly. “But perhaps I can use these magical children to _defend_ my throne from those damn dragonspawn when they do come.” 

Many of the people sitting at the table just raise their brows at the king's words. However, deep down, many members of the King’s small council do see sense in Robert’s words. 

Cersei on the other hand, almost rolls her eyes at her husband’s words. Her husband is just so paranoid when it comes to those little Targaryen children. The queen of Westeros just thinks that Robert is worrying himself over nothing. Afterall, according to reports from spies, young Viserys and young Daenerys are actually struggling to survive in Essos. It’s not like the young Targaryen exiles have an army to invade Westeros with.

“Robert, not that again.” Queen Cersei says as she wrings her hands. “It isn’t like those little Targaryen children have an army of over ten thousand men. Tell me husband, just how could those little Targaryens come and take your throne without an army?”

Robert grips the table as he looks at Cersei. “Cersei, those little dragonspawn _will_ come back one day. It may not be tomorrow, but one day that damn Viserys Targaryen will _somehow_ find an army to take my throne from me. Mark my words!” 

Robert then wrings his hands. “Cersei, the throne isn’t just mine you know. It will one day belong to Joffrey! And do you really think that Viserys will show mercy to you and the children once he kills me? NO! That damn dragonspawn will try to eliminate any competition to the throne and that will include our sons. Viserys may even kill Myrcella just to ensure that she doesn’t have any grandsons that may try to claim the throne for themselves! You should be just as concerned as I am about those dragonspawn returning to Westeros!” 

At first, Cersei doesn’t say anything. She just closes her eyes. _I do love Joffery, Myrcella and Tommen._ Cersei thinks to herself. _I would hate to see any of my perfect golden babies die at the hands of those Targaryens. Even if I hate to admit it, Robert does have a point._

Cersei finally opens her eyes and looks at her husband. “Robert, now that I have thought about it, I have to admit that what you say is the truth. Of course, I do love our children very much and would hate to see any of them die. If you truly think that those Targaryens are a threat, then I trust your words.” 

Tyrion crosses his arms. He knows why his elder sister is saying this. Cersei may not care what happens to Robert, but she does love her children. Tyrion knows that his sister would do anything to ensure that Joffrey ascends to the throne, even though in reality, he is a bastard born from _incest_.

Robert sighs as he looks at everyone who is seated at the table. “We must find these children. However, I don’t even know where we would start.” 

Lord Tyrion crosses his arms. “The old Westerosi prophecy told of these children being born from first men descent and noble blood. Perhaps we should ask the noble houses who are descended from first men if they had any children born around nine moons ago.” 

King Robert scratches his chin. “Hmm, that does sound like a good idea.” 

Just then, there is a knock at the door. King Robert looks up. “Enter!” 

The opens to reveal a young man. The king cocks his head curiously. The young man is one of the raven masters who cares for the ravens down in the castle’s rookery. Maesters usually care for ravens. However, in very large castles such as the royal palace, the maesters actually have help caring for the ravens in the form of special servants called raven masters. Raven masters help fetch food and water for the prized prized birds and deliver messages when the maesters cannot.

King Robert quickly sees that the young raven master is holding a letter in his hands. The young raven master bows to King Robert and then approaches the King’s seat. The young raven master holds out the letter to the King of Westeros. 

“My king, I hate to interrupt, but this letter arrived by raven a little while ago.” The raven master says with a very respectful tone of voice. “It is from the Vale. The Gates of the Moon to be precise.” 

Lord Arryn narrows his eyes at that. Hmm, what does his High Steward want from the King? The only time the Lord of the Gates of the Moon has ever written directly to the King was around nine moons ago. Lord Arryn crosses his arms. It was around nine moons ago when the King was informed that he had a granddaughter from his eldest bastard child, who just so happens to work for Lord Nestor Royce. 

Just then, a shiver goes down Lord Arryn’s spine. Mya’s daughter was actually born around nine moons ago! Grand Maester Pycelle said that he saw the crescent moon and star mentioned in all four prophecies around nine moons ago. And...the Royce’s are from First Men nobility. Lord Arryn just blinks a few times as he leans back in his chair. Could it be?

King Robert narrows his eyes as he takes the letter from his young servant. “Hmm, I see. Thank you for bringing me the letter. You are dismissed.” 

The young raven master bows. “You are very welcome, milord.” 

The young raven master leaves the room. Everyone who is seated at the table just turns to the king, who is just starting to open the letter. Robert sighs as he takes out the piece of paper from the brown paper envelope. The king unfolds the letter in his hands. The king of Westeros then begins silently reading the words on the page.

_Dear King Robert Baratheon,_

_My king, I don't even know how I am supposed to explain this, but something most extraordinary has happened. Mya’s daughter, your granddaughter, has magical powers. You see my king, I was out in the courtyard with my dear children along with Mya, Declan and little Morgana, when one of my mule handlers slipped and fell while ascending the Giant’s Lance. However, using magic, Morgana broke the man’s fall. Alas, had little Morgana not intervened, the man would have most definitely perished from his accident._

_My king, even though it was a most miraculous and most extraordinary sight to behold, I am not exactly sure how this is possible. However, my castle’s maester did mention a supposed prophecy that he heard of back at the citadel. According to the prophecy, two children; a boy and a girl of noble blood and first men descent, would be born with magical powers one day. According to what my maester told me, the book containing the prophecy was taken from the Citadel by King Aegon I. My king, as long as the book wasn’t lost or destroyed during the sack of King’s Landing, it should be hidden somewhere within your castle’s library. Perhaps you can look for it so that we can learn more about this supposed prophecy._

_Sincerely,_

  
  


_Lord Nestor Royce, High Steward of the Vale_

By the time king Robert is finished reading the letter, his eyes are wide. He almost drops the letter in his shock. The King of Westeros can barely believe what he has just read. His bastard granddaughter...has been born with magical abilities. His granddaughter must be the _magical girl_ mentioned in the prophecies. 

The gods...chose to bless _his_ bloodline with magic. 

Cersei, Tywin, Jaime, Tyrion and the members of the King’s counsel look at the king. Hmm, the king looks so shocked. _Why?_

Cersei just blinks a few times. “Robert, is something the matter?” Cersei asks with fake concern. 

Stannis wrings his hands. “Brother, please tell us what troubles you.” 

After a few minutes of silence, King Robert smiles wickedly and starts chuckling. Then, the king bursts out laughing as he grips the letter with both hands. 

The others seated at the table are getting really concerned now. The king barely laughs like this anymore. Just what has gotten into him? 

“The gods must love me.” King Robert says between his laughs. “Of all the bloodlines to bless with magic...they chose _my_ bloodline!” 

Cersei blinks a few times. Cersei is confused now. “Robert, what do you mean? Our children don’t have magical powers.” 

Jon Arryn just leans back in his chair. His hunch must be right then. Mya’s child has magical abilities.

“The child that my bastard daughter Mya had nine moons ago has magical powers!” King Robert says as he laughs. “My _granddaughter_ is the prophesied girl. Of all the noble houses to bless with magic, the gods above chose house Baratheon and _my_ bloodline in particular. The gods must love me!” 

Cersei grips the armrests of her chair a little. Lord Tywin and his sons just share looks with one another. Stannis and Renly also share looks with one another. 

Petyr Baelish scratches his chin. “Hmm, your bastard granddaughter has magical powers then, milord? Such an interesting development indeed.” 

Ser Barristan clears his throat. “What are you going to do, my king?” 

Robert stops laughing and looks around the table. “I am going to go visit the Vale to see her powers for myself of course! You know what, I have an even better idea. I shall invite her to court!” 

Tyrion clears his throat. “My king, aren’t you going to address the issue of finding the _magical_ _boy_ first?” 

King Robert blinks a few times as he leans back in his chair. “Hmm, you are right Lord Tyrion. I must locate this boy. But...where would I even start?” 

Jon Arryn rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I do know that the largest concentration of nobles who carry the blood of first men is in the North. My king, perhaps you should write to Ned to inform him of the situation. Perhaps if the boy has been born in the North, Ned will be able to find him.” 

Robert’s eyes light up. “Good idea. I shall go to my solar to write to him now. I should probably send a letter to the Vale as well to inform Lord Nestor Royce that I received his letter.” 

King Robert stands up. “This meeting is adjourned for now.” 

With that, the king leaves the room. Jon Arryn follows. Lord Renly and Lord Stannis soon get up as well. The two Baratheon lords silently follow their older brother and the Lord of the Eyrie out of the room. Grand Maester Pycelle, Ser Barristan, Lord Baelish and Varys also get up from the table. Soon enough, the only ones left at the table are the queen, Lord Tywin, Ser Jaime and Lord Tyrion. Lord Tyrion looks at his sister, who has a blank look on her face. 

“Sister, you seem very troubled.” Lord Tyrion states. 

Cersei doesn’t respond to her younger brother’s statement. The queen of Westeros simply looks at her wine goblet with eyes full of shock, rage and horror. Her husband’s little bastard granddaughter has magical powers. This just has to be some kind of sick joke. 

_Right?_

* * *

_...The next day...at the gates of the Moon…_

Lord Nestor sighs as he looks down at the letter before him. He is sitting at the long table in the Great hall with his children, Maester Garth, Declan and Mya, who has little Morgana in her arms. Also seated at the table are Lords Horton Redfort and Yohn Royce, along with their sons and master-at-arms. Yesterday, when he sent the letter to King’s Landing, Lord Nestor decided to send letters to his cousin at Runestone as well as to the Redforts. Lord Nestor felt that since Declan is Lord Yohn’s nephew, he has a right to know about this. Lord Nestor then decided that since the Redforts are also of First men nobility, he decided that they could give him advice and insight on the situation. Lord Yohn and Lord Horton responded by coming to the Gates of the Moon with their eldest sons and their master-at-arms. Both contingents just arrived this morning. 

Then, after the two contingents arrived, a letter arrived from King’s Landing. It was addressed to Lord Nestor and was from the King himself. The contents of the letter were surprising to say the least. 

Apparently Grand Maester Pycelle of the King’s small council discovered an old Westerosi prophecy telling of the birth of two magical children in the castle’s library. However, the grand maester also discovered an Andal, a Rhoynar and a Valyrian prophecy telling of the same thing. All four prophecies pertained to the same thing. Two magical babes; a boy and a girl, would be born when a large and very bright star appears next to a crescent moon, and the two of them will possibly save Westeros during a long and harsh winter. 

Lord Nestor sighs. “The king agreed with Grand Maester Pycelle that four similar prophecies from four different cultures cannot be a coincidence. The king writes that he was making preparations to find the magical children when he received my letter.” 

Albar clears his throat. “Father, what does King Robert have to say regarding little Morgana’s powers?” 

Lord Nestor manages a small smile. “The King is actually very _happy_ about this. The King writes that he certainly feels that Morgana and the magically gifted boy can be great assets to the crown in the future. The king especially feels that little Morgana and the magically gifted boy will be useful when it comes to defending his throne from the young Targaryen exiles.” 

Lord Nestor then sets the letter down as he wrings his hands. “King Robert actually feels that this is a good thing for all of Westeros, even though it means that terrible times might very well be ahead of us all.” 

Morgana just blinks a few times as she listens to the conversation going on. Morgana has been listening very closely to what the adults in the room are talking about, as she knows that it is all pertaining to her. Apparently, there are four different prophecies pertaining to her and a mysterious magically gifted boy saving Westeros from the whitewalkers. Then, Morgana blinks a few times as Lady Life and Rebirth’s words suddenly come back to her. 

_...You have a purpose in this world, Morgana. In time, your destiny will become clear to you…_

Morgana blinks some more. Hmm, could this really be her destiny then? To fight alongside an unknown magical boy and save the entirety of Westeros from the whitewalkers.

Is it really her destiny to be a hero and a champion for all of Westeros?

Then, Myranda leans back in her chair. “Father, there is one thing I do not understand though. You said that there was an Andal prophecy regarding two children with magic, and it is from my understanding that the Faith denounces magic.” 

Lord Nestor then frowns as he remembers what he read in the letter. “Well, the king wrote that the book which contained the Andal prophecy was actually a telling of Andalos history before the coming of the Faith. Apparently, the prophecy was made before the Faith of the Seven took hold in Andalos. According to that book, magic wasn’t actually denounced by the Faith. In the distant past, magic was actually accepted and even praised by the Andals. However, an ancient king of Andalos decided to ban all magic in Andalos after his second wife, a sorceress, betrayed him by sleeping with a well known sorcerer.” 

Lord Nestor then leans back in his chair. “The King’s name was Vortigern Sunstone. In fact, king Vortigern’s rage was so blinding, he put anyone who was known to use magic or descended from a magical bloodline to death. By the end of his rampage, over half of the population within Andalos had been put to death on king Vortigern’s orders. The king even had his own magically gifted family members to death. It is said that he even killed some of his family members by his own hand.” 

Lord Yohn’s eyes become wide. “Seven hells, King Vortigern committed _kinslaying_!” 

Many of the people at the table just share looks with one another as they ponder over the information just given to them. King Vortigern not only committed the accursed act of kinslaying, but he also put over half of his own people to death. That is seriously messed up. 

Lord Nestor sighs again. “Alas, King Vortigern passed on his hatred of magic to his three sons from his first wife, along with instilling that same hatred into future generations within the land of Andalos. Even though King Vortigern’s bloodline died out, the seed of hatred that he planted regarding magic couldn’t be extinguished. Alas, that is why the Andals despise magic, even though the Seven themselves never denounced it.” 

Albar, Myranda, Mya, Declan and Maester Garth look at one another. Lord Horton, Lord Yohn, their sons and their master-at-arms also begin looking at one another. Hmm, the Andals hated magic before the coming of the Faith in Andalos? The Andal’s hatred of magic actually began with a king who committed the cursed act of kinslaying along with murdering over half of his own people. That is very interesting indeed. 

Lord Nestor then glances towards Morgana, who is seated in Mya’s lap. “Even if the part about the whitewalkers coming again isn’t true, King Robert still thinks that both Morgana and this prophesied boy will be great assets to the crown as they can defend Westeros from threats across the seas. That is why the king is _very_ happy about this. In fact, the king wishes to meet Morgana and witness her powers for himself.” 

Morgana blinks a few times. Her kingly grandfather actually wants to meet her?

Declan’s eyes become wide as he looks at Mya, whose eyes are also wide. Declan then clears his throat. “Lord Nestor, are you saying that the king wishes to visit the castle?” 

“The king says that either he will invite you, Mya and little Morgana to court in King’s Landing or visit the Vale.” Lord Nestor says as he looks at Declan. “Right now, the king is concentrating on finding the magically gifted boy.” 

Mya then looks at her infant daughter. Mya smiles and holds up the baby girl. “Did you hear that Morgana? The king, your grandfather, actually wishes to meet you.” 

Morgana just smiles at her mother. _I wouldn’t mind meeting the king._ Morgana thinks to herself. _Just as long as he isn’t anything like King Uther Pendragon._

Lord Nestor then picks the letter back up. “Declan...Mya, there is also something that you should know. You see, there is another part to the old Westerosi prophecy.” 

Declan narrows his eyes as he looks at his older relation. “What is it, Lord Nestor?” 

Lord Nestor wrings his hands. “The prophecy foretells that if the magical girl and boy defeat the whitewalkers and survive the long night themselves, they will _marry_ and become the rulers of the magical boy’s ancestral castle.”

Mya and Declan both gasp and look down at their baby girl. Many others gasp as well. However, Jasper Redfort just huffs. “Lord Nestor, that part of the prophecy must be wrong as Morgana is just a _bastard_ babe. No lord would willingly marry a bastard girl.” 

Lord Nestor sighs. “That is true.” 

Lord Yohn Royce then crosses his arms. “There is a way around that though. A bastard child can always be _legitimized_.” 

Lord Nestor narrows his eyes as he looks at his cousin. “Hmm, that is very true as well, cousin. I have known of lords asking kings to legitimize bastard sons when they have no trueborn heirs. However, I have never known a lord to ask a king to legitimize a bastard daughter before. Do you really think that is possible, Lord Yohn?” 

Lord Yohn shrugs a little. “I imagine that if a king can legitimize a bastard boy, he can also legitimize a bastard girl.” 

Andar Royce, Lord Yohn’s eldest son just looks at his father. “Father, please don’t tell me that you honestly want to legitimize Morgana as a Royce?!” 

“This is a special case, Andar.” Lord Yohn says to his son. “If Morgana was to be legitimized, she would be a Royce, and with her magic, she would be able to bring House Royce glory and prestige.” 

Lord Nestor then looks back down at the letter. “The old Westerosi prophecy also foretells that if Morgana and this magical boy were to marry, they would have many children, all of whom would inherit their magical powers...and their land would prosper for many generations.” 

Declan and Mya both look down at their baby girl. It never occurred to the couple to ask the king to legitimize their daughter. However, they both know very well that bastards, especially girls, have bleak futures. Bastard born children cannot inherit nor marry into nobility, lest they are _legitimized_. Declan and Mya then share a look with one another. And...what Lord Nestor is saying regarding the prophecy sounds like a pretty good life to them. Morgana would be able to marry into nobility and any children that she has will be trueborn nobles, and thus be able to inherit and secure good marriage prospects. 

_Relax, this may be for the best._ Declan thinks to himself. _It’s not like Morgana won’t stop being mine and Mya’s daughter if she is legitimized._

However, Declan then frowns when he thinks of something. What if this prophesied magically gifted boy ends up being bastard born like Morgana? What would happen then? 

Declan looks towards his uncle. “Uncle, I see sense in what you are saying. I know that my daughter will be able to have a better future and more marriage opportunities if she is legitimized. However, what if the foretold magically gifted boy is also a bastard? What would happen then?” 

Lord Yohn narrows his eyes. “Hmm, you are right Declan. Even if Morgana was to be legitimized, she _still_ wouldn’t be able to marry this foretold magically gifted boy.” 

Lord Nestor crosses his arms as he looks at Lord Yohn. “What we do know from the wording of the old Westerosi prophecy is that this magically gifted boy will be of first men descent and noble blood, just like Morgana. However, as of right now, we have no idea as to which region or house that he has been born into, or even if he is a trueborn or bastard born child. Cousin, I say that you wait until we know more about this magically gifted boy before you make any hasty decisions regarding little Morgana’s future.” 

Lord Yohn closes his eyes as he leans back in his chair. Lord Nestor does have a good point. There is time to decide little Morgana’s future.

* * *

Lord Stark looks at the letter in his hands. It was just after the midday meal when Maester Luwin approached the Lord of Winterfell and showed him a letter from King’s Landing. When Lord Stark opened the letter, he discovered that it was from King Robert himself. The contents inside the envelope stunned Lord Stark to the core. 

Inside was a two page long letter. Apparently, Grand Maester Pycelle found not one but _four_ different prophecies in the castle’s library at King’s Landing. The four prophecies are Westerosi, Andal, Rhoynar and Valyrian in origin...and each one of them pertains to two magically gifted children being born when a very large and bright star appears next to a crescent moon. All four prophecies also stated that the children would be born during a long summer and sometime before a period of great political upheaval. Then, the following winter would be extremely long and harsh...and beings made of ice and dark magic, likely whitewalkers, would return to destroy all life within the land. The two blessed children, a boy and a girl, would have the power to defeat the whitewalkers and restore peace to the land. 

Ned leans back in his chair. What King Robert wrote in the letter sounds a lot like the story Old Nan told him and the other lords. However, it wasn’t that which shocked the Lord of Winterfell the most. It was what King Robert had written next which shocked Ned. Apparently, Robert’s eldest bastard child, Mya Stone, had a baby girl around nine moons ago. As it turns out, the babe has magical powers. It seems that the king’s granddaughter is the magically gifted girl foretold in the prophecies. 

After a few minutes, Ned sighs as he sets the letter down on the table before him. _Robert’s bastard grandchild has magic…,_ Ned thinks. _This is quite the development indeed._

Maester Luwin is sitting nearby. The wise old maester wrings his hands slightly. “Hmm, so the prophesied magical girl is in the Vale then?” The maester of Winterfell muses to himself. “And not only that, she is the granddaughter of King Robert himself.” 

Ned looks at his castle’s maester. “Yes.” Ned then quickly looks back down at the letter. “King Robert feels that his granddaughter and the prophesied magical boy can be great assets in the future so he wants to find the other magical child as soon as possible. The king has requested that I ask my vassals if they have had any male children born recently.” 

Maester Luwin wrings his hands some more. “Milord, you already know that Lord Bolton’s grandson has magic. You should inform the King right away.” 

Lord Stark sighs and gets up. He grabs the letter. “I shall do that. However, I shall inform Lord Bolton of this first.” 

Ned turns to Rodrik Cassel, who is sitting to his left. Jory Cassel, Rodrik Cassel’s nephew, is sitting to Rodrik’s left. Vayon Poole is sitting to Maester Luwin’s left. 

“Ser Rodrik, get some horses ready. We are going to the Dreadfort.” Ned says. 

_...Hours later...at the Dreadfort..._

Roose looks at the letter on the table. He is sitting at the head of the table. Ramsay and Maester Wolkan are sitting on the right side of the table, just to Roose’s right. Lord Stark and Lord Stark’s master-at-arms, Rodrik Cassel, are sitting to Roose’s left. The Lord of Winterfell and his master-at-arms arrived at the Dreadfort rather unexpectedly. Once everyone was seated, Lord Stark proceeded to tell Roose that he had received a letter from the King. 

Roose sips some wine from his goblet. Apparently, Grand Maester Pycelle found four different prophecies telling of the same thing. Two magical children being born when a star appears next to a crescent moon and that the children would save their homeland from evil beings made of ice and dark magic. The description of these beings sound a lot like the whitewalkers. 

Roose leans back in his chair. It is quite shocking that there are four different prophecies telling of the birth of two magical children. However, that wasn’t the most shocking news. The most shocking part of the letter was that the king said he had already found the magical girl in the Vale of Arryn. A little girl by the name of Morgana Stone. And...like Mordred...she is the bastard child of two bastards. However, there is a catch to this. Morgana’s mother, Mya Stone, is actually the bastard daughter of King Robert Baratheon himself. This actually makes Morgana the _granddaughter_ of the king. 

Roose clears his throat. “So the magically gifted girl is the granddaughter of King Robert Barathen then” Roose muses as he looks down at his goblet full of hippocras. “This is a very interesting development.” 

Lord Stark picks the letter back up. “Aye, it is indeed. And apparently, the king is very excited about this.” Lord Stark then looks down at the letter. “The king writes that he hopes his granddaughter and the foretold magically gifted boy will prove to be very good assets to the crown. Of course, King Robert is especially hoping that his granddaughter and the boy will be able to defend his throne from the remaining Targaryens.” 

The Lord of Winterfell then looks to Roose. “Lord Bolton, since the King wishes to find the magically gifted boy, we should inform him of your grandson’s powers. And since the King’s letter was addressed to me, I should probably be the one to inform the king of this.” 

Lord Stark then leans back in his chair. “Lord Bolton, I can mention in my letter to the king that you wish to legitimize the boy, but still, even though the king seems happy about this, I feel that he would _hesitate_ to administer legitimization papers for the boy.” 

Lord Stark then leans back and wrings his hands. “However, your grandson does have an air of _charm_ surrounding him, Lord Bolton, and I don’t think that it would take long for the boy to charm the king. Perhaps upon meeting the boy, the king will be charmed enough to agree on legitimization.”

Roose nods in understanding. It probably wouldn’t hurt for him to wait a little longer to have Mordred legitimized.

Lord Stark then sighs. “The king also writes that he will either invite his granddaughter and the magical boy to court, or he shall visit them in their castles. Lord Bolton, whatever happens, you need to be prepared.” 

Roose momentarily glances around his castle’s great room. The Lord of the Dreadfort has never heard of a monarch ever visiting the Dreadfort before. Just what would the King of Westeros think of the dreary and intimidating Dreadfort? 

Lord Stark gets up from his seat. “I should get back to Winterfell. The sooner I send the letter to the king, the sooner he shall know of the boy’s powers.” 

Roose nods and stands up to see Lord Stark and his master-at-arms farewell. Once Lord Stark and Ser Rodrik are out of the room, the Lord of the Dreadfort sighs as he sits back down. 

“I feared that the magical girl would be a bastard like Mordred.” Roose says admittingly to his son and his castle’s maester. “Mordred and House Bolton will gain nothing from him marrying a bastard girl.” 

However, after a few minutes of silence, Roose takes a sip of his hippocras. “However, there is the chance that news of me having Mordred legitimized might encourage House Royce to legitimize the girl as well to secure a marriage alliance.” 

Roose then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “There is also another advantage of having Mordred marry the girl.” 

Maester Wolkan narrows his eyes. “Milord, whatever do you mean by that?” 

“The girl is the granddaughter of the king.” Roose says. “That means if something happens to the king, his heirs, his brothers and Lord Stannis’s daughter, any sons or male descendants that Mordred might have with the magical girl will have a claim to the iron throne.” 

Maester Wolkan gasps as he takes in his lord's words. The wise old Maester never thought about that. 

Ramsay just trembles a little. He clenches his fists. Just the thought of one of his little bastard’s sons or grandsons becoming the king of Westeros while _he_ himself remains a bastard just fills Ramsay with so much anger. 

After a few minutes, Ramsay just huffs and abruptly gets up from the table. He has heard enough. Without another word, Ramsay leaves the table. Roose frowns as he watches his bastard son leave the table. 

“Ramsay, I haven’t dismissed you yet.” Roose says with some ire. 

However, Ramsay pays his father no mind. Ramsay just keeps on walking until he is out of the room. Maester Wolkan just sighs. He just had a feeling that Lord Snow would not be happy about the idea of one of Mordred’s male descendant’s becoming the king of Westeros in the absence of any other heirs. 

Roose looks to maester Wolkan. “Maester Wolkan, go inform Mordred’s wetnurse of the news that Lord Stark brought me. Whatever happens, either a trip South or a royal visit, she must be prepared as well.” 

Maester Wolkan gets up from his seat and bows. “Of course, Milord.” 

Maester Wolkan leaves the room in a hurry. Roose just sips some more of his hippocras. He then looks out the windows as he thinks of the possible future. 

If Mordred does get the chance to marry the King’s granddaughter, then his bloodline will be connected to the kings of Westeros. Then, what if the king, his heirs, and his brothers all die? Roose knows that this would leave the throne open to other potential heirs, such as Mordred’s descendants. Then, if any of Mordred’s male descendants take the throne, the entirety of Westeros would be under House Bolton control. 

Roose leans back in his chair. He tries to think of the Iron Throne, and of a Bolton sitting upon it.

* * *

Faye and Missy just stare as Maester Wolkan speaks of the news that Lord Stark brought today. Faye blinks a few times. 

“So the magical girl has been found in the Vale?” Faye asks the Dreadfort’s maester. 

“And she’s the bastard granddaughter of the king?” Missy asks with a small voice.

Mordred stands up in his cradle. He looks to the south again. So, the magical girl that he is destined to marry one day is in the Vale? That must be why he has always had this compulsion to look towards the South. His destined future bride is there. 

_I wonder what this magical girl is like…,_ Mordred thinks to himself. 

Maester Wolkan sighs. “The king wrote to Lord Stark that he will either visit the magical children or invite them to court.” 

Faye gasps. “The king actually wrote that in his letter?” 

Maester Wolkan nods. Faye looks at her attire. “I don’t know if I have attire worthy of appearing before royalty.” Faye muses to herself. 

Then, after a few minutes, Faye wrings her hands as she looks back at Maester Wolkan. “Maester Wolkan, you never mentioned the magical girl’s name. What is her name?” 

“Morgana. Morgana Stone.” Maester Wolkan says with a sigh. 

Both Faye and Missy narrow their eyes. Faye crosses her arms. “Hmm, such a unique and unusual name. A lot like Mordred’s.” 

“And both names start with ‘mor’.” Missy muses. “That is so strange.” 

Mordred, who is standing in his cradle, just stares southward. His mind is reeling from Maester Wolkan’s words. He thinks of his deceased sister figure from his previous life. Mordred also remembers Lady Life and Rebirth’s words. 

_...You shall be reunited with someone who was once dear to your heart…_

Mordred just continues to stare southward as he thinks of his old friend. _Morgana, my dear old friend. Is it really you?_

* * *

_...The next day...in King’s landing..._

Cersei just rages as she paces around the bedchamber that she shares with Robert. Jaime is standing nearby. 

“Dear sister, please calm down. You know I hate seeing you like this.” Jaime says with a soothing voice. 

Cersei clenches her fists. “I can’t help it Jaime! I just cannot believe that this is happening. I mean, Robert’s bastard granddaughter has magical powers. This is positively terrible!” 

Jaime walks up to Cersei and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Sister, do tell me why this is a terrible thing?” 

Cersei snarls a little. “You know how Robert is disappointed with Joffrey.” Cersei then wrings her hands a little. “It’s just, I fear Robert may be charmed enough by the little bastard girl to legitimize her and make her his heir...and then _disinherit_ Joffrey.” 

Jaime scoffs a little as he envelopes his sister into a hug. “Now Cersei, that is a ridiculous notion.” Jaime says soothingly. “I am sure that King Robert would never do that. Even if he did, there is Tommen to consider. And besides, the child is a girl and if she was legitimized...she would become a Royce, not a Baratheon. Everything is going to be fine. You shall see.” 

Suddenly, there is a knock at the door. Jaime and Cersei quickly part themselves from their hug. Cersei clears her throat. “Come in.” 

The door opens up, to reveal Tyrion, holding a wine goblet. Tyrion frowns when he sees his older siblings in the room together.

“I hope that I didn’t interrupt anything important, but this news cannot wait.” Tyrion says with a tense voice. 

Jaime frowns. “What is it, dear little brother?” 

Tyrion sighs. “A letter just arrived from House Stark.” Tyrion then crosses his arms. “Apparently, the magically gifted boy has been born in the North to one of Lord Eddard Stark’s vassals. House Bolton to be precise.”

Jaime raises a brow. “Hmm, House Bolton? That is interesting. Aren’t they the ones known for _flaying_ their enemies alive?” 

Tyrion then leans against the door. He takes a quick sip of wine before he speaks. “Yes. And...the most interesting part about this is that the boy’s parents are both bastards, just like little Morgana. The boy’s father is the bastard son of Lord Bolton and the boy’s mother is a bastard from House Cerwyn, another noble Northern House.” 

“Hmm, what a coincidence?” Jaime muses to himself. The kingslayer leans against one of the bedchamber walls. “I mean, the king’s granddaughter is the daughter of King Robert’s bastard daughter and a bastard boy from House Royce. The boy is the bastard son of Lord Bolton’s bastard son and a bastard girl of another Northern Noble House. Both of them are _bastards of bastards_.” 

“Yes, but also think of this.” Tyrion says as he unfolds his arms and walks into the room. He closes the bedchamber door behind him. “The prophecies foretold of these magically gifted children being born of noble blood.” 

Jaime narrows his eyes. “Yes, House Bolton, House Cerwyn, House Royce and House Baratheon are all noble houses.” 

Tyrion then holds his hand up. “Just think of this. In the distant past, the Boltons were known as the _red kings_ of the North before they were subdued by House Stark around two thousand years ago. In the past, before the Arryn’s took control of the Vale, the Royce’s of Runestone were kings. In a way, ‘noble blood’ could also mean ‘kingly blood’.” 

Jaime rubs his chin. “Hmm, that is quite an interesting notion indeed.” The kingslayer muses. 

“And the boy’s name is Mordred Snow.” Tyrion says. “Just think of this; the boy’s name starts with ‘mor’, just like Morgana’s name. Both of their bastard surnames even start with an S.” 

Jaime crosses his arms. “Hmm, that is so coincidental.” The kingslayer muses. 

Tyrion just sighs. “Well, I don’t think it is a coincidence. The gods are certainly behind this somehow.” 

Tyrion sighs as he takes a sip of wine from his wine goblet. “Lord Stark mentioned in his letter that the boy is very clever and very advanced for a babe. Apparently, the child learned to walk and talk when he was eight and a half moons of age. It is no wonder then that Lord Bolton wishes to legitimize him.” 

Jaime and Cersei share looks with one another. The two of them weren’t expecting that. Cersei quickly clears her throat. 

“Legitimize?” Cersei asks with a slightly tense voice. “Doesn’t Lord Bolton already have a son?” 

At first, Tyrion doesn’t say anything. He simply takes another sip of his wine. Then, the dwarf looks back to his elder siblings. “Lord Bolton did have a trueborn son named Domeric Bolton, who died some years ago. After Domeric’s death, Lord Bolton brought his bastard son to the Dreadfort in hopes that he could at least raise the boy to be his new heir.” 

Jaime raises a brow. “Hmm, is Lord Bolton not satisfied with his bastard son?” 

Tyrion sips some more of his wine. “According to Lord Stark, after Lord Bolton brought his bastard boy to the Dreadfort, it became clear to Lord Bolton that his son would make a very poor lord; much to his frustration of course.” 

Jaime crosses his arms. “So Lord Bolton considers his magically gifted grandson a better prospect for heir then?” 

“It would appear so.” Tyrion says as he looks at his older brother. Tyrion then looks at his wine goblet. “I have to say, if king Robert does legitimize the little lad, the part in the first prophecy about the magical boy becoming lord of his ancestral castle would make sense.” 

Jaime then leans back against the wall when he thinks of something. “Hmm, but that prophecy also spoke of the magical children marrying each other when they grow up. However, if the boy is legitimized, he would become a true Bolton, yet the king’s granddaughter would still be a bastard. Just how would that work out?” 

Tyrion sips some more of his wine. “Littlefinger pointed that out to the king. King Robert said that if he does decide to legitimize Lord Bolton’s grandson, he may just go ahead and legitimize his granddaughter as well.” 

Cersei’s eyes widen as a shiver goes down her spine. Did her vile husband really say that? 

Tyrion sighs and gets ready to leave the room. “Well, that is all I have to say.” The dwarf says as he looks at his siblings. “I also suppose that I better get going. I have been meaning to visit Littlefinger's brothel for a while.” 

Without another word, Tyrion leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. After a few minutes of silence, Jaime looks back over to his sister. Cersei is simply staring at her wine goblet with a mixture of horror and rage. Jaime raises a brow. 

“Sister, are you alright?” Jaime asks with a tense voice. “You...you look a tad bit pale.” 

Cersei simply sets her wine goblet down and grits her teeth just a little. “Of course I am not alright!” Cersei says. “You heard what our little brother said. The king might legitimize the girl. Robert is going to make that little abomination his heir and disinherit Joffrey! I just know he will!” 

Jaime walks over to the bed and takes his sister into his arms. “Cersei, it is as I said. The girl will be a Royce, not a Baratheon. And there is still Tommen to consider. Everything is going to be alright. You shall see, dear sister.” 

However, Cersei is not soothed by her twin’s words. Deep down, Cersei just cannot shake the feeling that her husband’s magically gifted bastard granddaughter is _somehow_ going to ruin her life.

* * *

_...A day later...at the Dreadfort…_

Roose looks down at the letter in his hands, which just arrived from King’s Landing this morning. The King received Lord Stark’s letter regarding Mordred’s magic and the king has decreed that he wishes for Roose to visit King’s Landing with Mordred in a fortnight. 

Roose sighs. Well, it looks as if he is going south. 

Maester Wolkan is standing nearby. The wise maester clears his throat. “Milord, does this mean that you shall be gone from the Dreadfort for a while?” 

“Yes, Maester Wolkan, I shall be gone for a while.” Roose says as he sets the letter down. “I shall be leaving Locke behind as castellan to defend the Dreadfort while I am away. I shall be taking Ramsay with me as he can learn manners from a meeting with royalty. Let’s hope that he doesn’t embarrass me.” 

Maester Wolkan sighs. “I sure hope so as well, milord.” 

“Maester Wolkan, go inform Faye of the letter.” Roose says. “She will need to be prepared.” 

Maester Wolkan immediately bows. “Of course, Lord Bolton. I shall do that right away.” 

With that, Maester Wolkan leaves the room, leaving Roose to think to himself regarding the future. In a fortnight, Mordred’s future shall be decided.

Legitimization or no Legitimization. That is the big question indeed.

_...Meanwhile...at the Gates of the Moon…_

Mya and Declan are sitting at the table in the great hall. Mya has a sleeping Morgana in her arms, who is bundled in a blanket. 

Lord Nestor, who is sitting at the head of the table, is holding a letter in his hands. It is from King’s Landing. After a few minutes, Lord Nestor sighs as he sets the letter down on the table. 

“The magically gifted boy has been born in the North.” Lord Nestor says as he wrings his hands. “To House Bolton to be exact.”

Lord Horton Redfort goes pale, as does Jasper. Lord Horton’s master-at-arms, Ser Ryger Redstone, also goes pale. 

Ser Ryger is a relative of Lord Horton Redfort. Ser Ryger’s grandfather and Lord Horton’s grandfather were brothers, which makes Ser Ryger Lord Horton’s cousin twice removed. Ser Ryger’s father was the bastard son of Lord Horton’s great-uncle, and his mother was a server girl from House Redfort. Ser Ryger’s father married a bastard woman from the Riverlands, who came to the Vale looking for work. She arrived at the Redfort and then subsequently met and married Ser Ryger’s father, who was a skilled knight in service to House Redfort. This makes Ser Ryger of legitimate birth, which allowed him to take a special surname for himself. Ser Ryger chose ‘Redstone’ as his surname as he does share _blood_ with the Redforts, and he was born at the Redfort as well. 

Lord Horton clears his throat. “Lord Nestor, did you just say House Bolton?” The lord of the Redfort asks with a tense voice. 

“Yes.” Lord Nestor says. He looks back down at the letter. “It says here that the child is the bastard grandson of Lord Roose Bolton. The bastard son of Lord Bolton’s own bastard son, Ramsay Snow.” 

Lord Horton, Ser Jasper, and Ser Ryger all gasp. The eyes of all three men become wide as they clench the table. Lord Horton then frowns and grits his teeth. 

“To think that the bastard would dare father a son after what he did.” Lord Horton practically yells to himself with a mixture of anger and sadness. 

Lord Horton’s angry yell awakens Morgana, who whimpers and whines in her mother’s arms. Lady Myranda crosses her arms as he looks at Lord Horton. 

“Lord Horton, look at what you have done. You woke up little Morgana.” Lady Myranda says with a scolding voice. 

Mya just quickly begins shushing her baby girl. However, at the same time, she looks back and forth between the Redforts and Ser Ryger. Just why is Lord Redfort, his son and Lord Redfort's master-at-arms so upset and angry about this? 

Declan is just as confused as Mya is. He quickly clears his throat as he looks at the Redforts.

“Lord Horton, what are you talking about?” Declan asks with a tense voice. “What did Lord Bolton’s bastard son do to make all of you so angry?” 

Jasper narrows his eyes at Declan. “Don’t you remember my father’s squire, Domeric Bolton?” 

Declan’s eyes suddenly become wide. “Ah yes, I do remember now.” Declan says as he leans back in his chair. “He was handsome with pale eyes and black hair. I also remember him being good with horses.”

“Yes, Domeric loved riding horses.” Jasper says. “He was like a brother to Creighton, Jon and I. Mychel also enjoyed Domeric’s company whenever he came home to the Redfort to visit us.” 

“Domeric was a quiet lad, but he was still good with a sword.” Lord Horton says as he fondly remembers his former squire. “I did greatly enjoy the years in which he lived with my family in our castle.” 

Jasper sighs. “Domeric was Lord Roose Bolton’s trueborn son and _heir_. That was...until he died of a mysterious illness. A ‘bad belly’ the Dreadfort’s maester said. However, my family and I know what truly happened to him.” 

Mya and Declan watch as Lord Horton wrings his hands. The Lord of the Redfort then sighs as he leans back in his chair. He clears his throat as he begins to tell the story of his beloved squire. 

“Years ago, when young Domeric was done being a squire for me, he rode home and learned that he had a bastard brother, who lived at a nearby mill. He had always wanted a blood brother, so he rose to the mill to try and befriend the bastard. Days later, Domeric fell ill and died. The Dreadfort’s maester simply said it was a ‘bad belly’, but I suspect poison. Many who were close to Domeric, me included, suspect that Lord Bolton’s bastard somehow poisoned the poor lad so that he would become Lord Bolton’s heir.” 

Mya and Declan both look at each with wide eyes. Hmm, Lord Bolton’s bastard could have potentially poisoned his own half-brother? No wonder the Redforts and Ser Ryger are upset about this news. 

Morgana blinks as she shifts within her wrappings. Lady Life and Rebirth once told Morgana that this world is full of deceit and that heirs of lords often secretly kill one another for power. 

Lord Horton then grips the table until his knuckles turn white. “The fact that the bastard had the audacity to steal Domeric’s position by killing the poor lad fills me with so much rage.” Lord Horton says with a voice full of animosity. “And now the fact that the bastard has fathered a son, when poor Domeric lies underneath the Dreadfort himself, is even more enraging.” 

“Lord Bolton is going to legitimize both the bastard and his son for sure.” Ser Ryger laments. 

Lord Nestor just looks down at the letter. “Actually, it says here that Lord Bolton wishes to _only_ legitimize his grandson. The king writes that Lord Bolton is disappointed with his bastard son and feels that his grandson will make a _better_ future Lord Bolton.” 

Lord Horton, Ser Jasper and Ser Ryger all look at Lord Nestor with disbelieving eyes. The three stunned men look back and forth with each and the High Steward of the Vale. Lord Horton quickly clears his throat. 

“Lord Nestor, is that true?” Lord Horton asks the High Steward of the Vale. 

Lord Nestor nods his head. “This is what the letter says.” 

Lord Horton, Ser Jasper and Ser Ryger all begin looking at one another again. Then, Jasper smiles and starts chuckling to himself. 

“If only the babe is legitimized, then that means the bastard shall not be Lord Bolton’s heir anymore.” Jasper says with a smirk. “The horrid bastard is not going to inherit anything while the little lad lives, that is for sure.” 

Ser Ryger starts laughing. “The bastard shall remain a Snow while his son becomes a true Bolton and inherits the Dreadfort. Oh, the irony!” 

“I agree.” Lord Horton says with his own smirk. “The bastard has lost his chance to rule the Dreadfort to his own son! I suppose this must be the gods justice for dear Domeric.” 

Mya and Declan look at each other. Well, the Redforts and Ser Ryger don’t seem to be upset anymore. In fact, they seem thrilled with this news. 

Morgana wriggles her fingers a little. Hmm, what the Redforts and their master-at-arms are saying does sound very ironic indeed. Lord Bolton’s bastard son murdered his own half-brother to become his father’s heir, but now he has most likely lost that chance to his own _son_. That is ironic indeed. 

Lord Yohn then leans back in his chair and scratches his chin. “Hmm, if Lord Bolton’s grandson is indeed legitimized by the king, that means he shall be a good match for Morgana if she is legitimized as well.” Lord Yohn muses. “Perhaps seeking legitimization for Morgana will be worth it then.” 

“Then the part of the old Westeros prophecy about the two magically gifted children marrying and becoming rulers over the boy’s ancestral lands would come to pass.” Andar says. “If Morgana was to marry Lord Bolton’s grandson, she would then become ‘Lady of the Dreadfort’.” 

Albar then clears his throat. “Father, you haven’t mentioned the name of Lord Bolton’s grandson. What is the name of the little lad?” 

“Mordred Snow.” Lord Nestor says. “However, if Lord Bolton has his way, it will soon be _Mordred Bolton_.” 

Morgana blinks a few times, trying to comprehend what she just heard. _Mordred…,_ Morgana thinks to herself. _It...it can’t be. Right?_

Then, Morgana suddenly remembers Lady Life and Rebirth’s words. 

_...You shall be reunited with someone who was once dear to your heart…_

Morgana blinks some more as she momentarily glances towards the North. _Mordred…,_ Morgana thinks to herself. _Is it really you, my dear friend?_


End file.
